#TO THE ONE FRIEND ON HERE WHO SEES THIS AND REMEMBERS THIS PHASE HI. I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO DRAG YOU IN. AND IF I AM ITS NOT ON PURPOSE

[bayleaf-2]

Oh yeah I'm normal about MCD I lost interest for it a long time ag-

*gets clocked over the head by fanart and GIF sets, apparently*

[winxanity-ii]

FATHER, FORGIVE ME

ship: father charlie x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 4.1k a/n: ahhh….I just want to say I'm so thrilled with all the love and support for the mini Devotion series! It means the world to me to see you guys enjoying it as much as I do. And a huge thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I got drunk asf, and here's the rough draft I made while tipsy, lolol. Hope you all enjoy~ 😈✨..

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You wouldn't say you were a bad person.

Selfish? Maybe. Impulsive? Absolutely. But "bad" seemed a bit of a stretch.

It's just that, when you saw something you wanted, you didn't hesitate to take it—and, honestly, you had no regrets. Not until now, at least.

Sitting here, surrounded by the smell of old hymn books and dusty incense, listening to some wrinkly old man in a white robe drone on about salvation.

The whole thing was your mother's doing. She had this recurring phase, like clockwork, where she'd get bitten by the "Bible bug."

For a few weeks every year, she was the most devoted Catholic you'd ever seen. She'd call, text, guilt-trip—anything to get her kids back on the straight and narrow, even if just for a Sunday morning.

For the last seven years, you'd managed to dodge it. Moved out at eighteen and never looked back, leaving the duty of church attendance to your three other siblings.

Usually, someone would take one for the team and tag along with Mom until her enthusiasm fizzled out again. But this time, it seemed your luck had run dry—your sister had finally roped you in, and here you were, seven-year streak shattered.

You sighed deeply, eyes half-lidded as they flicked across the stained glass windows—all those saints staring down at you in judgment.

You couldn't help but think of all the things you could be doing right now. Sleeping, for one. Your bed sounded like heaven compared to the hard pew beneath you.

Or brunch with your friends—mimosas and laughter, not these monotone chants and the faint smell of mothballs.

Hell, you could've called Kevin over and gotten dicked down instead of dealing with this—

Your thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming against an unexpected sight.

The old priest, the one whose croaky voice was practically white noise at this point, stepped away from the pulpit. In his place was someone else—someone younger, someone whose presence commanded attention.

A man, tall, dark hair neatly combed back, with a crisp black cassock that hugged his broad shoulders just right. He moved with a sense of ease, like he belonged up there.

And damn, was he handsome. Handsome enough to pull your focus completely, which was a feat in itself given the circumstances.

Your eyes tracked him as he approached the podium, his voice replacing the rasping chant of the old priest. It was smooth, warm, resonant. Nothing like the man you remembered from years ago.

He spoke about community, faith, redemption—but all you could think was how someone like him ended up in a place like this.

You found yourself leaning forward, just slightly, as if drawn in by some invisible force. Your irritation melted away, replaced by a strange curiosity.

Maybe… maybe this wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday after all.

The priest stood quietly at the altar, his figure framed by the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint scar traced its way down the right side of his forehead, a mark that spoke of some unknown hardship or past misadventure.

He was youthful but with the stillness of someone who’d seen enough to understand patience and humility.

With each breath, the man seemed grounded in his presence, shoulders relaxed but broad, the fabric of his robe resting comfortably against his chest.

His appearance was almost angelic, yet the subtle scar and the weight in his eyes hinted at something more complex beneath the surface—a man of God, perhaps, but one who had walked through fire to find his faith.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow in appreciation as you stared at the handsome man up there. You leaned over a bit to your mother, eyes never straying from his figure. "Ma, who's that? Is he new?" you whispered to your mother.

She looked up from her phone, Candy Crush flashing on her screen. You silenced the snort that wanted to come out. Looked like she might retire from church early this year, you thought to yourself, seeing her early signs of disengaging.

She glanced up at the front, giving a quick look before going back to her game. "That's Father Charlie Mayhew. He was brought in about two or three years ago, I think," she murmured absently, barely paying attention.

Father Charlie.

You watched as he spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, his eyes sweeping over the congregation with a genuine warmth. He wasn't like the old priest—this one seemed to genuinely care, as if each word held weight.

You wondered if that scar came from something dramatic, some story worth knowing. Your gaze lingered, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his lips moved with each word. Something about him felt... magnetic.

You found yourself sitting up straighter when the two of you made eye contact—he blinked, his words stumbling just slightly, a brief hitch in his otherwise smooth delivery. "I, uh... I apologize," he stuttered, looking off to the side, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You caught the way his eyes shifted nervously, almost as if he was trying to regain his footing. It was subtle, but you could see it—the way he tried to pull himself back together, to get through the rest of the sermon without any more disruptions.

He cleared his throat to continue, "As I was saying... uh, the importance of faith in our lives cannot be overstated. We must always strive to, um, to do what is right, even when it's difficult..." His voice trailed off slightly, but he managed to steady himself, his eyes avoiding yours as he focused on the rest of the congregation.

It made something stir in you, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You bit down gently on your lower glossed lip, eyes trailing over his form, taking in every subtle detail. The way his hands gripped the edge of the podium, the faint flush creeping up his neck—it was all so telling.

He seemed innocent, reactive.

You smiled to yourself, letting your gaze linger as he continued, noting the way he seemed to avoid looking in your direction now, as if afraid that another glance might trip him up again.

Maybe you should pay a visit to Father Charlie—see if you could break that serene composure of his.

You could already imagine it—the way he might tense up under your touch, the way his voice might crack if you whispered something just a bit too forward.

The thought alone made your heart race, anticipation bubbling up inside you, like something in you just knew—he'd be fun to unravel.

You leaned back in your seat, a slow, satisfied smile playing on your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

The sermon ended with a quiet murmur of 'Amen' from the congregation, followed by the gentle shuffle of people rising from the pews.

You glanced around, watching as people slowly made their way to the exits, some stopping to chat while others lingered near the back of the church.

The old priest was nowhere to be seen, but Father Charlie remained, standing at the front as he spoke softly to a small group of parishioners.

Your mother, of course, made a beeline for him. You heard her voice carrying over the hushed conversations, gushing about how moving today’s sermon was.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself, and slowly rose to your feet, making your way over with an almost lazy stride.

As you approached, you could see your mother perk up, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you. "Oh, there she is! Father Charlie, this is my youngest, ____." She gestured towards you, her hand lightly resting on your arm to pull you closer. "You've met my other children over the years."

You could see the change in Father Charlie almost instantly. His posture shifted, his back straightening just a little more, his eyes rounding as they landed on you. He seemed almost like an eager puppy, his gaze bright and attentive.

He quickly pulled his eyes away, turning back to your mother with a polite smile as he nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said, his voice a touch softer. Then he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a gentle smile. "It's nice to finally meet you. I don't think I've seen you here before... ?"

Your mother gave a sort of laughing scoff, waving him off as she caught his attention again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Father, the day she willingly comes to church without an incentive is the day the devil is welcomed back into Heaven's gates."

You kept your eyes on Father Charlie, a small smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head slightly. "Maybe I just hadn't found a good enough reason to come before," you said, your gaze locked on his, your voice light but carrying a hint of something more.

His eyes widened just a little, and you watched as a faint blush spread across his cheeks, his lips parting slightly as he blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Before he could say anything, your mother’s name was called from behind. It was one of her church friends, and in an instant, she was off, waving a quick goodbye and leaving you standing there in front of Father Charlie.

You didn't waste a second, taking a daring step forward, your eyes fixed on him. "So..." you said, letting your gaze roam over him before meeting his eyes again. "You seem awfully young to be running a church like this. I have to say, I'm impressed."

He looked bashful, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at you. "Oh, well, thank you. I just... I do my best," he said, his voice soft, the pink on his cheeks deepening.

You smiled, tilting your head just slightly. "Do you do one-on-one sessions, like other churches do?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

He blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean confessionals?" He nodded quickly, his expression shifting back to something more serious. "Yes, I do. In fact, I was planning on doing confessionals later today, after the services. Not many people take me up on it, but I think it's important to always offer the option."

"Oh, really?" you said, letting your voice drop just a bit, your head tilting to the side as you watched him. You let a small smile curve your lips, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I came to see you and... confessed, would you, Father?"

He stuttered, his blush deepening as he quickly nodded. "N-No, of course not. You're more than welcome to come by, anytime," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirked, giving him a nod. "Perfect," you said, your voice smooth, before turning on your heel and walking away, back towards where your mother was waiting.

You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, the weight of his eyes almost burning into your back. And you loved it.

This really was going to be fun.

The church grew quieter as the service officially ended, people slowly trickling out while you lingered, waiting for your moment.

Eventually, you made your way to the confessional booth, the small wooden space feeling cramped as you settled in. The air was close, the scent of polished wood and incense hanging heavy.

You could hear Father Charlie shuffling on the other side, the sound of the door closing behind him, the rustle of fabric as he got seated.

You took a breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you began. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." you said, your voice soft, but there was an edge to it that you couldn't quite hide.

There was a pause before you heard him clear his throat, his voice coming through the small screen that separated you. "The Lord is always ready to forgive. Please, tell me your sins, my child."

You sighed, leaning back slightly, your fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. "I fear I desire a man that is just out of my reach," you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It's wrong for me to want him... but I can't seem to help myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost picture the look on his face—concerned, earnest, wanting to help. His voice was gentle as he responded. "Desire can be difficult to control, but it is not inherently sinful. It is what we choose to do with that desire that matters. You must pray for guidance, ask for strength... and remember that God understands our struggles."

You hummed softly, your eyes half-lidded as you listened to him, but your mind was drifting. His voice was soothing, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if things were different.

If there wasn't a screen between you.

If you could reach out, touch him, feel that innocence melt away under your fingers.

Your hand trailed down your side, your fingers brushing over your thigh as you let out a soft sigh.

His voice cut through your thoughts, sounding a bit uncertain. "Sister ____... are you alright? Do you hear me?"

You smiled to yourself, your mind made up. You leaned closer to the screen, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "Father," you began, your tone coy, "I must confess... I find it difficult to focus when you're speaking. You have such a... soothing voice."

His breath caught audibly, and you could almost hear the way he was struggling to gather himself. "W-What do you mean, sister?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, laced with confusion.

"It makes me think... sinful thoughts."

You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted. "S-sister," he stammered, clearly taken aback. "This... this is not appropriate."

You ignored his protest, your voice growing softer, more intimate. "You know, Father, I've always heard that confession is good for the soul. And right now... I think there's only one thing that could truly absolve me of these desires." You let the words hang in the air, knowing exactly what you were implying.

"Sister, this... this isn't..." His voice was shaky now, the uncertainty clear. "I don't think—"

"Come get me, Father," you whispered, your tone daring, challenging him. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you?"

There was silence for a long moment, and then you heard it—the slow shuffling as he moved. The sound of his door opening, the soft creak of the confessional booth as he stepped out.

You pushed your own door open, stepping out into the dimly lit church. Father Charlie was standing there, his head downcast, his face flushed a deep red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again.

You took a step towards him, your movements slow, deliberate—like a predator closing in on its prey. His breath hitched as you approached, his shoulders tensing. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister, I... this isn't right. We shouldn't—"

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the front of his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. You let your hand slide down, your voice a low purr. "Father," you purred, your eyes locking onto his, "I want you to take me somewhere... push me to a higher calling, yeah?"

His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he stared at you, his lips parting in shock. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and then, almost as if the word was pulled from him, he whispered, "Okay..."

His hand was trembling slightly as he reached for yours, and you let him lead you out of the main church area, his eyes flicking nervously around to make sure no one was watching. He led you down a dim hallway, stopping at a small door that opened into a cramped janitor's closet.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you were on him.

You pushed him back against the wall, your lips crashing against his. He gasped, and you took advantage, licking into his mouth, tasting the hint of mint on his tongue as a low groan rumbled from your throat. His hands hesitated for a moment before resting on your waist, his touch light, unsure.

You deepened the kiss, feeling the way he shivered beneath your touch, your hands pushing up under his cassock, fingers skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. His muscles tensed under your fingertips, a shudder running through him as he let out a shaky breath.

You pulled back, just enough to see his face in the low light, and he chased your lips, leaning forward as if he couldn't stand the sudden loss of contact.

You let out a dark chuckle, your hands coming up to cup his flushed cheeks, squeezing gently. His face was a deep shade of red, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in short, uneven pants. He looked almost dazed, completely overwhelmed, and it only made your smile widen.

Your thumb grazed over his plump bottom lip, pressing gently before dipping just inside his mouth. His eyes fluttered, his tongue flicking out hesitantly to brush against your thumb before retreating. You let out a soft sigh, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Oh?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on him.

Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, his breathing ragged. You stepped closer, rising onto your tiptoes, your lips just barely grazing his as you spoke. "You did so well during the sermon, Father," you whispered, your voice low and dripping with suggestion. "It makes me wonder... what could such a blessed mouth do somewhere else?"

His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t pull away. You gripped his shoulder, your fingers digging in just enough to make him shiver, and tugged him downwards. "On your knees," you said, your tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Charlie sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something almost like reverence, and it sent a thrill through you.

You watched as he knelt before you, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that knew this was wrong, that wanted to resist—but the desire was stronger, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, your touch surprisingly gentle. "That's it," you murmured, your voice softening just a fraction. "Such a good Father... doing exactly what you're told."

You took a step back, your eyes never leaving his as you moved to the nearest wall, leaning against it comfortably.

With slow, deliberate movements, your hands reached down, unzipping your mini skirt and letting it slide down your legs, pooling around your ankles. You made a show of it, your fingers tracing along your thighs, sliding over your hips, and letting out a soft sigh as you watched him.

Charlie's eyes widened, his gaze following every movement, his lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. The flush on his face deepened, his eyes locked onto you with something like awe, mingled with pure, unfiltered desire.

You smirked, lifting one hand and curling your fingers in a come-hither motion. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly beginning to crawl towards you, his eyes never breaking away from yours.

The sight sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement running up your spine. He reached you, his hands carefully coming up to rest on your legs, his touch light, almost reverent.

His fingers traced along your calves, moving upwards with a hesitant slowness that made you release a shaky sigh, your back arching slightly as his touch grew bolder.

His hands were trembling as they reached your hips, his fingers brushing against the edge of your underwear. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as if silently asking for permission.

You gave a small nod, and he let out a shaky breath, his fingers hooking into the waistband and slowly slipping your underwear down, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

Once they were off, he shifted closer, his breath ghosting over your bare skin. He surprised you by gently lifting one of your legs, settling it over his shoulder as he pulled you closer, his face inches away from your most intimate parts.

He let out a deep, almost pornographic groan as he leaned in, taking a slow, deep breath, as if breathing you in. The sound sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Charlie looked up at you one more time, his eyes searching, as if asking for final permission.

You smiled, your fingers sliding through his hair before giving a gentle but firm scratch along his scalp, your silent approval. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh before leaning in.

At first, his movements were hesitant, his tongue slipping out to give an experimental swipe. He was sloppy, uncoordinated, his lack of experience clear, but there was a determination in the way he moved, as if desperate to please.

You let out a soft hum, the sound encouraging him, and he grew a little more confident, his tongue pressing more firmly. He licked a long stripe up, his tongue swirling at the top, and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's it, Father," you murmured, your voice a soft purr. "You're doing such a good job."

The praise seemed to light something in him, a low groan vibrating against you as he pushed in closer. The sound made you gasp, your back arching slightly as the vibrations sent a rush of pleasure through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, slipping inside you as he began to eat you out like a man starved. He was messy, the wet sounds filling the small space, his lips and tongue moving with increasing fervor, as if the more he tasted, the more he craved.

He bullied his tongue into you, his nose brushing against you as he lost himself in the act, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him as he worked.

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, but the soft, wet sounds filled the small space, making it impossible to ignore.

Your hand moved up, your teeth sinking into the back of it as you stifled a moan, your thighs trembling as he continued. His tongue moved with determination, pressing deeper, swirling before retreating, then focusing on your most sensitive spot.

When his lips closed around your clit, giving a particularly hard suck, your vision blurred, and stars burst behind your eyelids. Your back arched, your body pressing against his face as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your thighs shook as you slowly came down, your body relaxing slightly against the wall. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. You gave Charlie a small shove, pushing him back just enough.

He hesitated, his tongue giving one last languid lick, followed by a reluctant suck before he finally pulled away, his lips glistening, his breath coming in low, heavy pants. His bottom face was a mess, his eyes half-lidded, dazed as he looked up at you.

You leaned down, your fingers cupping the bottom of his face, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek as you gave him a swift peck on the corner of his lips. He blinked, his eyes widening slightly, a blush deepening across his face.

Straightening up, you reached down, picking up your discarded thong, folding it neatly before slipping it into the pocket of his cassock. He stared at you, his lips parted, his breathing still uneven.

"Thank you, Father~" you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction. You watched as his blush deepened even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "You know," you continued, your tone teasing, "I might just have to come back for confession more often."

He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours, a mix of confusion and something darker swirling in them. You smiled, giving him a wink before turning on your heel, striding out of the closet, leaving him kneeling there, his breath still shaky, his face still flushed.

As you walked away, a satisfied smile playing on your lips, you couldn't help but think that maybe church wasn't going to be so bad after all.

A/N: hehehe, dont mind me, just wanted to see charlie's and y/n relationship in reversal...

[horangare]

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers

in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)

warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature

wc : 14.9K words

note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request

Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.

Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.

Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.

You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.

All of them except for him.

Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.

“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.

Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”

"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."

“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.

Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.

“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”

Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”

Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”

“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.

“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”

“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”

“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.

“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.

The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…

“Hey, new girl.”

You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“No.” You deadpanned.

His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.

“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.

“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.

“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”

Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”

“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”

“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.

“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”

Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”

You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.

Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”

“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.

“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”

“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.

“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.

“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.

“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”

Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.

You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.

By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.

Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.

What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.

“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.

Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.

“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.

“Promise?”

Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.

Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”

The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.

Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.

He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.

You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.

So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.

Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.

To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.

Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?

“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”

The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”

“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”

Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”

“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”

Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.

Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).

“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”

You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”

Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.

You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”

“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”

The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.

“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.

“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.

“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”

Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”

A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.

“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”

Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”

“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.

“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”

Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.

“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”

“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”

Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.

“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”

“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”

You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.

This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—

“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.

But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”

When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.

In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.

He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.

Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.

He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.

“For you, maybe.”

“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.

You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.

“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.

There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.

Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”

“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”

Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.

Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.

“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.

“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”

That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.

“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”

Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”

“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.

“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.

“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.

The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.

Now you really couldn’t go back.

Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.

“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.

You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“I guess it has.”

When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.

Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.

“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”

“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”

Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”

The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.

“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.

Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”

You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”

You really hoped so.

For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?

Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.

“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.

Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.

“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”

“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”

And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.

“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”

Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”

“Jeonghan.”

Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.

But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.

“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”

You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.

“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”

You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.

“Coming!”

Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.

You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.

So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.

“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”

You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.

“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”

“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.

“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”

“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”

“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.

“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”

Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”

Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.

“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.

“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.

“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.

“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.

“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.

“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”

Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.

“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”

You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?

“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.

Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”

“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.

A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.

“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”

“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”

For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.

“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”

Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.

“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”

“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”

“Shut me up then.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?

His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.

“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.

Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.

He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.

“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.

Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.

“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”

You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”

One promise kept, another one broken.

“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.

“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.

In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.

So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.

“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.

“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”

Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.

“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”

He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.

You’ve just come to two realizations.

1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.

2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.

You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.

“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”

“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.

The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”

You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.

“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.

You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.

A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.

His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.

“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.

“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”

He really remembered that?

“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.

“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”

“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”

Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.

The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.

“The fucking press is still out here?”

It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.

“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”

A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”

“I remember it being more than that, actually.”

He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.

“Are you nervous?”

“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.

“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.

“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.

“Mom, please.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”

“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”

You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.

“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.

“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.

Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.

"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.

Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”

And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.

You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.

“[Y/n]?”

You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.

“Why are you crying?”

He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.

“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”

You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”

His silence was painful.

“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.

Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.

“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”

The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.

“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”

The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”

A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.

“[Y/n]—”

“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”

Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.

“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”

“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”

You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.

Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.

On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.

How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—

Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.

Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.

“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.

Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize to you.”

Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.

“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”

There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.

“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m still upset with you.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”

You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”

Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.

When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.

You breathed out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”

His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”

“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”

“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.

“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.

“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”

“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.

“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.

Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”

He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.

“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.

You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.

“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.

He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.

“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.

He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.

“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”

His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.

“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.

He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”

“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”

You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.

There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.

His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.

“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.

“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”

“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.

Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.

“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.

“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

[deadghosy]

DUUUDE OMG as someone who had a HUGE creepypasta phase I'm obsessed with your hazbin hotel x creepypasta reader fics omggg

Anywaysss could I possibly request a Hazbin Hotel x Sally Williams reader? Completely platonic obviously :)

HAZBIN HOTEL X SALLY WILLIAMS! READER

prompt: a small child with a bloody body accidentally visits the hotel of a cartoon she only saw once

“BENNN! I wanna be in a cartoon..” you says whining to Ben as you grip your teddy bear. Ben rubs his chin thinking then smirks. “What kinda cartoon?” “One with friendship! Like My little pony.” You said with an adorable smile. “What about a better cartoon…” Ben said with a evil smile

And now you are now in the cartoon called Hazbin hotel as you just stood there sobbing at not seeing ponies. Where’s fluttershy? Where rarity? AND WHERE THE HELL IS TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

You must have caused a bad scene as Alastor had took your hand and brought you to the hotel for shelter. You told the “nice” man your friend made you come here making Alastor think you got killed by someone. But what’s a child like you doing here?…..

When the whole crew met you, they found you adorable but they were concerned on why a child, most likely a “human” child like you is in hell.

You have a room next to the next lesbian couple. After they cleaned you and having you wear shoes..which didn’t go well so they let you wear a new pair of white socks as you wore a cute pink dress.

Vaggie felt something about you was off. But she felt like heaven had not let you in. So she didn’t press any farther.

Angel gives you fat nuggets because he trusts you to look after him as he works. He never told you what he does for work but you enjoy keeping fat nuggets some company.

You dressed fat nuggets up as a pig princess. Angel found it cute and funny as he took a photo of it to remember the memory forever.

The most to baby you is definitely the Morningstars and Alastor a little bit. As Alastor felt to protect when he first seen you. He always tells you to smile at most to not let anyone see what’s underneath.

Alastor takes you on strolls at times. Even taking you to cannibal town where you can meet his dearest friend. Rosie, an overlord who takes on the cannibal town.

Rosie absolutely adores you! She called you sweetie pie all the time you visit her with Alastor.

I imagine you gave husk ponytails as he just grumbled drinking. He didn’t feel the need to scold you, you’re just a kid. Kids don’t know no better.

You and husk’s dynamic is “drunk uncle x pretty pink princess kid”

Husk hates to admit it but he likes your presence as you help him clean. Although he tries to tricks you to not clean the glasses so you won’t cut yourself.

Lucifer definitely tries to take care of you how he did for Charlie and it’s so wholesome as he would bring you ducks to your room that across of his.

He is such a overprotective father figure-

Angel and you have such cute fashion shows together as you both dress up like princesses💗

I headcannon that Charlie and Lucifer would spoil you rotten like getting you cute dresses or whatever you want as long as you are happy.

I can see that if it was your birthday, it’s as if Christmas and a birthday was combined as you get so much gifts😭

Niffty definitely teaches you how to clean as she always wanted to teach someone how to clean without ignoring her.

I can imagine you trying to contact Ben somehow as Ben is being interrogated back at the mansion as slenderman is chasing Ben with a pan demanding where you are at.

Sir Pentious lets you In on his machine shenanigans as you just smile with the egg boiz who hold your hands.

You showed your teddy bear to Lucifer who cooed at you as he made you a duck that had bear ears..you were weirded out at first but appreciated it. It was nice to get gifts! 💗

I headcannon you like greeting the residents in the hotel as they greet you back not excepting to se an actual human child in the hotel

I can see Angel dust having Velvette make cutesy outfits for you as he likes to see you as a little sister.

I can imagine you just doing that evil ass child laugh to scare the residents…you little ass menace

[milkloafy]

THIS BEAUTIFUL MELODY — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you notice a beautiful ship and are excited to see what human you can lure out. surprisingly for you, it’s not an entranced sailor, but rather a man who jumped off the ship to chastise you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 3.2k ⋆｡˚ ❀ genre: mermaid!reader; suggestive, 16+? ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: fyi reader is kind of morally gray just like the slightest bit LOL like they don’t wanna gravely harm anyone yk but they get in a silly goofy mood sometimes -3- happy somewhat-unhinged mermay! xo

There was always a slight thrill that accompanied the satisfaction of seducing a human. 

The way they looked at you with such enamorment, as if they would follow you off the face of the earth; the clumsy way they would leap off their boat just for the chance of being in your presence… 

It was one of your favorite pastimes, to be honest. 

Now, it wasn’t something you participated in a lot, but the days when you and your friends had a contest of who could lure the most men at sea were certainly ones you always remembered. 

There was a line you didn’t cross, naturally. 

While you did indeed lure sailors out of the comfort of their own ships and into the waters, you didn’t leave them there. Sure, there were a few cases of people almost drowning, but you were certain you hauled most of them onto a rock or island to be found. Hopefully. 

You just found humans so fascinating, with their helpless little legs and inability to breathe underwater. How easily they became entranced by your alluring song. 

None of the merpeople you have met reacted to you in such a way. In fact, you found most of the mermen particularly annoying even. 

It was a nice day above the ocean today and you spotted a beautiful ship sailing by—The Wingalet it read. A ship of this beauty must have had a captain just as so. You swished your tail in excitement. 

And so your song began. 

A ringing, melancholic beauty slowly filled the air. When you closed your eyes, you could visualize the fog spiraling up from the sea, carrying your voice to the inhabitants of the ship. Could the humans envision it too? You let your mind wander as you sang. 

When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a figure emerge from inside the ship. He stood on the edge, and though you did not see his face, you could sense that he was looking right at you. 

A chill ran up your spine as you giggled in excitement, the playful wavering of your tune only adding to the appeal. You watched as the man leapt off the boat, swimming towards you. To your surprise, he was able to navigate the waves with relative ease—for better than any human you’ve lured before.

“Hey,” he called in a firm tone as he neared you, startling you to a stop. No human has ever reacted with such a tone. 

You didn’t let that phase you as you smiled coyly at him, shifting your hair to expose the skin of your neck and collarbones. With all the flattery you could muster, you greeted, “Hello, Captain.”

He nodded. If he was affected at all by your antics, you honestly couldn’t tell. “It’s ‘Your Grace,’ actually. Or simply Wriothesley is fine.”

Your brows raised, unsure if you should be impressed by the title. It certainly wasn’t as grand as ‘Your Highness.’ “Well, simply Wriothesley it is, then. What a unique and lovely name.” 

“Thank you for the compliment,” said Wriothesley, wiping a water droplet from his forehead. “But I do have to ask— Could you please stop singing your song around here?” 

You blinked. “Pardon?”

“It is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but are you aware of how many civilians I’ve had to drag back from the rocks?”

Feeling chastised, your face heated up and you no longer felt the trance flowing from you. “Are you not grateful I dragged them to the rocks?” 

Wriothesley sighed, treading water significantly better and longer than most humans could. He wasn’t falling on his face at the sight of your beauty, nor did he seem seduced by your song. You gazed at him curiously. Just who was this man aboard the Wingalet? 

Whoever he was, he ruined your fun. 

Where was the helpless, strong sailor who bowed to your every whims—for the few moments they could last in the ocean, at least. This reaction, or lack thereof, was new and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked it. 

It had been a while since you last lured a sailor… Did you lose your touch? Your friends would have had a field day if they learned about your humiliation. 

“All things considered, I appreciate you don’t leave my people behind after toying with them, but I would appreciate even more if you didn’t toy with them altogether,” he said after moments of contemplation. 

Your mouth dropped. In all your life you have never been spoken to in such a way. Or rather, not by a human. Some mermen you knew could be just as fussy. “I would appreciate it if my hobby wasn’t judged so harshly.” 

Wriothesley shook his head. “It is not my place to judge. But as you are in the borders of Fontaine, it would only be fair if the rules of the region applied to you as well. Including not bringing harm upon others. Is that what your hobby is?”

“I’m not harming anyone!” you protested, folding your arms defensively. 

As you frowned, you couldn’t help but notice the way Wriothesley’s gaze followed the water droplets down to the curve of your breasts. A hint of mischievousness made its way back to you. Perhaps he wasn’t as unaffected by you as he tried to seem. You decided to adjust your tone to one more…appropriate for the situation. 

“Your Grace,” you said apologetically, lips slightly parted as you shyly batted your lashes. He wet the corner of his mouth but didn’t blink an eye. “I truly mean no harm to you or your people. I only wanted to sing for you all.”

Wriothesley raised a brow as you fluttered over to him. 

“The merfolk back home don’t care for my music,” you said with a sigh, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You humans have much better taste.” 

As you drew nearer, you heard the labored breaths coming from him; his movements grew languid as well. You blinked. He had seemed so unbothered and confident, you almost believed he had no trouble keeping up on his own. Still, you reminded yourself he was a pitiful human—no matter how big and handsome he was. 

“Let me help you, Your Grace.” You offered him an arm to guide him along. “I know a cove not too far from here where you can rest.” 

Though tired, he managed, “Or, you could help me back to my ship that’s also not far from here.”

“But then how would I get on board with you?” you pouted, splashing water up with your tail. “I’m still not done with you yet.” 

Wriothesley choked out a laugh, slightly incredulous. Still he decided to humor you and nodded. “Sure, then. Lead me to your cove. Not that I have much choice, if you think about it.”

“I could also leave you on a sharp rock if you annoy me,” you offered. 

He sighed, an amused look littering his face. “Wherever you wish, darling.”

Your stomach jumped at the pet name, pleased at the sound of it. Sure, this man may be difficult compared to all the others, but maybe that would just make this more fun. 

Deciding against the large rock for today, you began to lead Wriothesley to a nearby island. It was small and quaint but the waves were calm and the vegetation was fruitful. Plus, there was a cove on the other side where you enjoyed picking shells. Perhaps you could show Wriothesley your shell collection if he kept his mouth shut for long enough. 

As you continued swimming, you noticed the grip of his hand tightened. You looked back and he was showing more signs of fatigue. 

“We’re almost there,” you murmured, not necessarily out of concern for him, but rather concern for the extra work you’d have to do if you had to haul an unconscious person onto land. “Don’t pass out yet.”

“Since when were you so sweet?”  he drawled. 

With a huff, you pulled him the final stretch of the way, not letting go until you were certain he could stand steadily on his own.

To your surprise, he did not stumble as he collected himself, even after you let him go. You hummed in delight, Wriothesley must be really strong if he could withstand all that. 

Once he was settled, you hauled yourself further along the shore. When the water become too shallow to comfortably maneuver around, you cleared your throat and looked up at him. When the two of you made eye contact, you lifted your arms, prompting him for assistance. 

Could you haul yourself to land without help? Yes, you’ve done so a million times before. But why would you do it yourself when you knew someone else was capable of doing it for you? 

Wriothesley let out a surprised laugh, voice sounding strained. “Are you asking me to carry you?”

Your eyes widened with indignation. “Of course not!” How could he possible have mistaken your gestures to mean wanting to be carried? “I’m only asking you to drag me over to the shore…”

He almost choked at your words before shaking his head. You twirled you hair around your finger. Was that strange of you to say? “Does that not hurt your scales?”

You thumped your tail down and splashed water on the both of you, displaying your tail’s capability. “My scales are strong,” you chirped.

Wriothesley hid a smile. “Allow me to be a gentlemen this once.”

“What do you mean—?”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as you felt yourself being lifted into the air. Dread filled your body at this unfamiliar feeling and you began to squirm around, wanting to get out. 

“Hey now,” he said in a soothing voice, arms tightening around you to offer a sense of security. “I’m only helping you get to the sand with me. I’ll make sure you are still close enough to the water. And I won’t drop you, if that is what you are fearful of.”

“Are you certain?” 

You heard the horror stories about humans. Some would cut off the tails of merfolk and sell the scales. Others who simply wanted to sate their morbid curiosity and know how your kind tasted… You shuddered.

“I promise no harm will come to you,” stated Wriothesley, slowly kneeling to the ground and placing you on the sand. “See, it was only a short trip. It’s over now. I’m sorry for starling you.”

You sniffled, folding your arms across your chest. “I forgive you. But I am not showing you my shell collection anymore.” 

He chuckled, placing his hand to his heart. “That wounds me.” Wriothesley took a seat beside you in the sand, letting out a sigh of relief as he stretched out his legs. “Maybe next time then.”

“Perhaps if I find you worthy enough,” you said haughtily. “Only a select few can see my collection. Or…perhaps it would be enough if you managed to get one of those orange-looking fruits from the land over there.” 

Wriothesley followed your gaze. “The bulle fruit,” he said in understanding. “You want me to get you one?”

You nodded eagerly, your mouth watering at the thought. You had never tried one yourself—to be frank, the sand was just a bit too hot for your tail and you weren’t able to stand up and reach the fruit on those rare occasions you did make it far enough. But you imagined it was juicy and delicious.

Despite how tired he must’ve been after treading the ocean water for such a long time and carrying you to shore, Wriothesley still stood up and walked over to the nearest fruit tree. Your eyes widened as he punched the trunk of the tree, catching a fruit as it fell, instead of reaching up and picking one from the leaves. 

You grumbled, wishing you had thought of that method yourself.

Wriothesley returned shortly with two fruits in hand, one for each of you. You graciously accepted the bulle fruit and the two of you munched together.

As the juices hit your tongue on your first bite, you let out a noise of satisfaction. It was both sweet and sour, the perfect balance that made you want more. While you had a preference for salty things, seeing as you lived underwater, you had to pay respect where respect was due. 

Wriothesley looked over at you with a chuckle. “Is it to your liking?” 

“Enough so that I may even show you one of my shells.”

“I’m honored.”

As you continued eating your snack, you began talking to him about whatever came to mind—what you had for breakfast the other day, the pretty seahorse you recently befriended, and the unsung horrors of trying to date your fellow merfolk.

Throughout it all, Wriothesley paid the utmost attention to you. He responded and reacted when appropriate and seemed like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say. He wasn’t even entranced by your powers, yet he acted in such a way… To say you were pleased was an understatement.

When you finally decided to take a break from talking, Wriothesley finally spoke up. “Is this the only reason why you choose to lure sailors to you? So you can sing and talk and get fruit?”

A human may have felt ashamed at his words, but you simply nodded. “And so they can pay attention to me and give me compliments.” You looked at him pointedly. “None of which I have received from you, by the way.”

He let his eyes trail down body, from the slightest protrusion of your collarbones down to the tip of your tail, then back up to your face. You squirmed against the heat of his gaze, your throat feeling dry at the intensity.

“Do you want me to begin complimenting you?”

Never once had you shied away from flattery, but the look in his eyes were different—darkened and sincere, not the glazed-over and enamored ones you had grown accustomed to.

“Maybe later,” you managed, feeling bashful under his earnest stare. 

Wriothesley smirked but he did not push further. Instead he asked, “Do you want to know what I think, darling?”

You raised your brows, wondering why it sounded like a challenge. “Why not?”

“I think you are charming and beautiful, but lonely.”

Your mouth dropped in surprised. Was he trying to insult you?

“You want someone who is obsessed with you and only you, and you think it’s fun to see just how smitten you can make someone, no matter who they are.”

Curiously, you looked up at him, staying silent as he talked. 

“But I think you find this more fun.” 

“This?” you questioned.

Wriothesley nodded. “I’m not under your little siren spell, yet here I am—hanging onto your every word like it’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life. It’s a different kind of power you have over me. Is that not thrilling to you?”

You sat in your thoughts for a few brief moments. As fun as it was to make people fall over their own feet at the sight of you, Wriothesley was right. This was a different kind of attraction. You felt it in his stare, in the way he examined your every move. It was addicting in its own right.

“I have a proposal for you,” he offered, fishing something out of his pocket. It was a necklace with a dainty, yet regal shell attached as the pendant. “Instead of enchanting some innocent civilians with your song, why don’t you call on me wherever you get the urge?”

Wriothesley softly placed the necklace on your hands and you brushed your fingers atop the smooth surface. It was a gorgeous, vibrant blue.

“Sing only for me, into the shell, and I will come to you as fast as I can.”

“And if you don’t come?” you tested. 

“I will.” 

You hummed, considering his words. Did he enjoy your presence that much? Or was this some sort of trick? How he was immune to your song was a mystery in itself. Maybe the only way you would find out is spending more time with him, to begin with.

“Something troubling you, darling?”

“Just you,” you said honestly.

He laughed, drawing circles in the sand between your body and his. “I understand your reason for skepticism. But my reasons aren’t entirely selfless. Do you find it hard to believe that I want to see you again, too?” 

Wriothesley glanced at you and grinned, bringing his hand up to wipe your plump lower lip. Your eyes widened.

“Bulle fruit juices,” he said, bringing his thumb to his mouth. You saw the pink of his tongue jut out to take in the leftover fruit.

You looked away, flustered. You were not sure how to react. Something about him felt so indecent…so daring. Had he no shame? And that was coming from a merperson! 

Yet you still craved more. 

“It also helps to know the more time you want to spend with me, the less time you’ll be seducing other men for your enjoyment.” 

“Who says I won’t do both?” you challenged. 

He had a confident look on his face as he said, “I’ll make sure it’s only me you will want to see.” 

Heat filled your face as you bit out, “Such arrogant words for a human.” 

“Such beautiful innocence for a siren.”

“Mermaid,” you corrected. 

“Mermaid,” he said. “Apologies.”

“You’re forgiven.” 

Wriothesley laughed as he stared off into the distance. You looked along with him and noticed his ship drawing closer. Frowning, you avoided his gaze. 

“You’re leaving already?”

“I have some Duke duties to head back to,” he said apologetically, patting the top of your head as he stood, “but don’t forget the necklace I gave you.”

You placed it around your neck, satisfied when Wriothesley’s gaze zeroed in on where the pendant fell between your breasts. “You better come when I sing to you, Your Grace.”

“I’ll be there, darling.” Wriothesley kissed the back of your hand before he waved goodbye. “And who knows, maybe next time I can take you back to my place for a bit. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. A Melusine nurse. She may have a few tricks up her sleeve if you’re interested in some land legs for a day.” 

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your tail. You loved it, very much so, but you were always curious about life above water. Eagerly, you nodded. “Okay! Then, you better come quick.” 

“As soon as I hear your pretty song,” he called out his promise. “Until then, farewell.”

Admiring the pretty new necklace you acquired, you waved goodbye at Wriothesley. He was handsome and you knew the both of you wanted more. But you wondered just how upset you could make him if he were to find out you sang your song for another sailor before you called on him.

You smiled to yourself, pressing a kiss to the shell once his ship sailed away. “Don’t be too mad, okay, Wriothesley? I’m just having some extra fun.” 

[lilacstro]

Essential Dignity and Debility in Astrology

This post is LONG and hurt my fingers so much but would certainly help those who wish to study astrology rather seriously.

There are five different kinds of essential dignity that a planet can have and they are domicile, exaltation, triplicity, term (or bounds) and face (or decan). I would also be covering an important accidental dignity in this post. Each one impacts a planet in a different way by affecting the kinds of support and the amount of support a planet has access to.

look at this chart below: (credits: lilacstro on tumblr)

Let us start with

domicile (+5 points)

Ok, so think of it as the literal meaning, someone who is at home. To add more clarity to it, this would be the prime minister of a country, someone who is responsible for managing all the work and does all the major responsible things.

Some ancient astrologers use a scoring system to quantify the influence of planetary dignities. When a planet is in its own domicile, it receives a score of +5, which can be further enhanced by other dignities that we'll explore later. While this scoring system can be initially helpful, it's important not to rely on it exclusively for understanding dignity. A planet's condition is also influenced by its house position, aspects, speed, solar phase, and other factors. The scoring system is just a starting point, and I encourage you to trust your own judgment once you grasp the basics.

debility or detriment (-5 points)

A planet is in it’s detriment when it is placed in the sign that opposes it’s domicile. For example, the Sun rules Leo and is therefore in detriment in Aquarius, the sign that opposes Leo. The scoring system will tell you that a planet in exile is worth -5, but I’m not too sure about that, since again this would be like painting things black and white and that is not what we are doing here.

Think about it, you are out of your home, like far away from your home BUT you have the knowledge about the place you are at, you can speak the language and you have some rebel inside of yourself. You can say you are in your fight mode, you are not comfortable, you are not at ease, there is restlessness to be precise. Planets in detriment are forced to do things differently than they normally would, which can make them feel like outsiders.

Think about

Now is it the end of the world? No.

I think, was it with professor charlie obert at Kepler? If I am remembering it right? He quoted the example of Muhammad Ali (who was a heavy weight champion), who had Mars in Taurus. And now, he made this his entire career, and you see, Mars here gave him a restlessness, a competitive spirit, which he utilized to go where he went. So you see, it indeed is not impossible and no detriment or fall placement is a handicap.

Exaltation (+4 points)

Ah, exaltation is the president of the country. While he does not do much important work like the prime minister , he is extremely important and well regarded. Or think of him as an esteemed guest in a friend's house, though it is technically not his own house, he is still happy and comfortable there. I hope I am making sense

Planets in domicile have a bit more responsibility, which makes them more powerful but less relaxed at the same time — they have affairs to manage and duties to tend to. Exalted planets get to enjoy the experience a bit more, which might make the experience of exaltation more subjectively favorable than the experience of a planet in domicile. So this point system again feels doubtful.

Now, if you will look at the chart above, you will see I have mentioned some specific degrees at the chart above, now what I mean by that is, if you have degrees at that planet and sign, the exaltation is even more intense. In fact, the earliermost concept of exaltation were based on degrees. But in my own opinion, this would add more intensity only when the planet is in the exalted sign and not others. For example, in my own opinion, I would rather not consider a Moon in Gemini at 3 degrees to be exalted.

Traditional astrologer lily, relates it to psychological exaltation, saying people with exalted planets, often tend to have some high opinions of themselves, and it is somewhat true in my practice.

Fall (-4 points)

The opposite of exaltation is fall, which is often cited as being the most difficult condition for a planet to be in, which is not really like that. It more so is you need to work hard to bring those skills up, but harder than when the planet would have been in detriment. Now like I said, it is like being restless being in detriment, it is more so feeling lost and somewhat helpless with the planet being in fall. Now psychologically, having planets in fall can sometimes lead to a low self esteem or opinion of yourself around that area in life. Like say, your Moon is in fall in Scorpio, so you may feel like disregarding your emotions, not really wanting to believe or trust them. It can feel like at working odds with oneself.

In greek writings, fall was considered the prison, where one is supposed to oppose and fight, while exaltation was the throne, where one is considered prized. (it lowkey rhymes lmao)

When a planet is in fall, it encounters conditions that hinder its ability to thrive, making it less effective in managing the topics it signifies in a chart. These areas may be more challenging for an individual to engage with, but they also highlight where people are likely to make entirely new paths. The easy routes that exalted planets enjoy are not available to a fallen planet — they must create their own trails through persistence and determination. This process requires grit, effort, and perseverance, which is why fallen planets are often experienced as more difficult. They represent the harder aspects of life but also offer opportunities to break new ground and explore uncharted territory.

Again an example of how planets in fall may work out is comedian Lenny Bruce, who had his Sun and Jupiter hard aspects and both of them in fall, and that was the kind of comedy he did, basically ridiculing, coming in your face in kind of stuff and this is one of the many examples of a fall placement, being ridiculed or feeling off, humiliated, dishonored, disgraced, not being listened to (damn it got too much but I am just trying to explain).

Triplicity (+3 points)

This is not that major, but still a good add on strength to your planet. It is like, having a small support group, maybe of friends or people who just support you. For people with fall and triplicity:

It is like let us say you have lost your day job, but your patreon followers support you. What I mean is, if you have some fall planets, but their having a triplicity in that planet, it is having some support.. It might not be easy or comfortable to do so, but the resources they seek are dependent on others. Let us say you have Venus in Virgo, which is fall(-4 points). However, Venus also has triplicity in Virgo (+3 points), meaning it does get some support in Virgo. Of course, a wholistic Astrological interpretation is not as simple as being reduced to a points system, but it can help conceptually

Venus does not rule Virgo in the day. Virgo is ruled by Mercury, regardless of the time of day. However, Venus is the triplicity ruler of Earth signs (including Virgo) during the day, which means Venus has a supportive influence in Virgo for daytime charts.

The benefit of Venus being the triplicity ruler of Earth signs in a daytime chart is not limited to individuals with a Virgo Sun and Virgo Venus. It applies to any chart where Venus is in an Earth sign (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) in a daytime chart.

In a nighttime chart, the Moon is the triplicity ruler for Earth signs. Thus, Venus in Virgo would still be in fall (-4 points) but wouldn’t receive the +3 points from triplicity rulership since the night lord is the Moon.

Whereas for people with no fall placement, but a triplicity think of it as situations where a friends appears to lend a helping hand in times of need. This is the friend who drives you to the airport, the technologically-proficient relative who can fix your computer and so on.

It is however, important to consider the sect of the chart (wheather it is a day chart or night chart basically, I will be posting sects just after this, so it can help maybe)

image source: two wanders

the above rulers are further classified as day lords, night lords and co operating lords. For example, for someone who has a scorpio sun and was born in day, their day lord would be Venus, the night lord would be Mars, and the co operating lord would be Moon.

Now you may ask, what is day lord for a night chart? and why night lord for a day chart? well, these lords in both the sects reveal information about each of the houses that give so much extra information. So, do not confuse yourself at the moment. Just know, in your are born in the day, the rulers are so and so, and in night the rulers in a chart are so and so.

EDIT: check the post on sects out too if you are confused :)

Example: Someone is born in the daytime with a Mars in Taurus. Mars is the cooperating lord of Taurus during the day, Mars in Taurus receives +3 points and for being in detriment, -4? so it becomes a -1 overall.

Bounds (+2 points)

The terms refer to unequal subdivisions of the zodiac signs that are ruled by the non-luminaries in the Egyptian schema. These confines can be thought of as rooms in a planet’s house each one being sub-ruled by one of the 5 classical Planets (minus the luminaries). They are a method of categorization in the Essential Dignity schema of a Planet to ascertain its level of strength or weakness, or comfort within a Sign at a particular degree.

image source: Moongal via X

One way to conceptualize this is to think about the planet that rules a particular term as the supervisor of any planet that falls within that bound. The exaltation lord is like the CEO, the domicile lord is the Big Boss, the triplicity rulers are your coworkers and the term lord is your immediate supervisor. All of these play a role in your experience of getting work done and having a job, but in vastly different ways. This is how dignity works — it is a complex form of interrelated principles that all affect one another.

This influence can be easily seen in the example above where a domiciled Planet can be interpreted as the CEO, but really it is the supervisor (Planet in its bound) that has more of an impact on your day-to-day job satisfaction! How often do you encounter the CEO? Although the CEO would ultimately have the last say, generally you would go to your supervisor first for any issues (then the manager).

Astrologer Kyra Ryberg (I hope this was the name), explains this with help of Miley Cyrus' Chart. I cannot quote her word to word but will explain it from what I remember reading.

Her Saturn is at 13 degrees Aquarius in her 10th house, placing it within the bounds of Jupiter.

In Aquarius, certain degrees belong to the bounds of Jupiter, and this is where Miley’s Saturn is located. Both Jupiter and Saturn are diurnal and part of the sect in favor, with Jupiter overcoming Saturn by trine. This aspect and Jupiter’s influence help explain Miley’s significant success. Saturn limits and restricts, even with benefic influence, and she has often spoken about the challenges of breaking free from her Disney star persona. When Jupiter bounds in Aquarius, such individuals are “careless of their reputation" and I do not think I need to elaborate more.

Decan (+1)

Called “decanic” dignity or “dignity by face” and it refers to a planet being in their own decan. The decans are 10° subsections of the zodiac signs that help differentiate between the beginning, middle and end of a sign. The ancients gave them a score of +1, but I have found them to be more descriptive than anything else. The faces tell us what kind of narrative or storyline a planet will encounter in a given sign.

There are two different schemas of decanic rulership, one that follows the triplicity order and another that follows the Chaldean order.

image source: astromax on facebook

the inner wheel has the orders by triplicity while the outer wheels have the chaldean order. Look at the 0-10 degree for the 1st decan, 10-20 for the second and 20-30 for third in each sign

When a planet is in its own decan( for example: Mars in Aries between 0-10 degrees), it is said to gain a special kind of superpower. While it won’t be skilled at everything it’s responsible for, it will be particularly good at specific things. Austin Coppock says that it “unlocks a particular raw potency” that enables the planet to be “empowered by their own merits, abilities and efforts.” It’s not nearly as powerful or resourceful as a domiciled or exalted planet, but it does have a very profound impact on the way a planet does it’s Thing.

One extra clarification, When Mars is in 10°-20° Aries: Mars is still in its own sign, but now in the Sun’s decan.

There is an amazing tip for those who study tarot and astrology both. Now I have read this at multiple places so I do not know who to credit. But, here we go,

In more modern times, decans have become associated with the minor arcana cards of the tarot.

Each element corresponds with a suit in tarot: earth is pentacles, air is swords, water is cups, fire is wands. The cardinal signs (Aries, Libra, Capricorn and Cancer) correspond with the 2, 3 and 4 of a given suit. The fixed signs (Leo, Aquarius, Taurus and Scorpio) correspond with the 5, 6 and 7, while the mutable signs (Sagittarius, Gemini, Virgo and Pisces) are connected to the 8, 9 and 10 of a particular suit. For example, if you wanted to know what the first decan of Pisces represented, you would look to the 8 (first decan of a mutable sign) of Cups (Pisces is a water sign). By using this shortcut, you can look up the associated tarot cards of each decan and begin to contemplate and understand the territory a planet is living in or transiting through. The journey through the decans tell a story, and it is rich, vibrant and full of symbolic meaning.

Peregrine planets (-5 points)

Planets without dignity, debility and rulership, are called peregrine. Like for example, Scorpio Sun, the Sun is neither exalted, debilated, or in domicile or anything at all with the sign of scorpio.

For planets without dignity, look at their rulers. Planets which are not at home depend on the ruler of host to function. The word “peregrine” comes from the the Latin peregrino, meaning “to wander,” or “to travel”. Like a voyager in a foreign land. Demetra George describes peregrine planets as “a person without a home or who is outside his homeland” which increases their potential deficits.

And again, that point system atleast for me is not important when looking at the peregrine planets, and I would not say that the planet is an orphan of some sorts at all. This is just a traditional astrology thing which I just mentioned, and its on you and your practice to take it or not. The placement and aspects these planets make are very important. It is brutal for the traditional astrologers to give them a straight -5 lol.

for example aries moon is purely peregrine, aries mercury is also pregrine except between 12º-20º, where it has dignity by bound

similarly, taurus mercury, Taurus is not the domicile, the exaltation or even fall or detriment of Mercury so it is peregrine, except for 0-10º(triplicity order)// 10-20(chaldean order), where it has dignity by decan and between 8-14º where it has dignity by bound

now lastly,

accidental dignity

This is very powerful in understanding the placements of a planet while delineating a natal chart. The four pivot angles in the chart (basically the 1st, 4th, 7th and 10th), are points of visibility and power of the influence of the planet.

source of image: kepler college

so we understand that angular houses, which are 1st, 4th, 7th and 10th, amplify the visibility of the planets too.

and then the visibility is less in the succedent houses which are 2nd, 5th, 11th and 8th

followed by the least in the cadent houses, which are 3rd, 6th, 9th, 12th

Let us see a last example of how this may play out

For example. Bob Dylan had his mercury in gemini in the 7th house, and his venus 12 degrees in gemini in the 7th house and it just even further amplified how good of a lyricist he was, even though Venus in Gemini was not that strong with just being dignity bound at 12-17 degrees, however you may pay attention to the fact that his neptune was in virgo, and his mercury was in 7th, so the ruler of neptune was in 7th which amplified his artistic skills even more, since 7th house is kind of an accidental dignity.

Let us take another example, a person with Sun in scorpio at 4 degrees, is peregrine, but if the Sun is placed in any of the angular houses, it becomes stronger and the person would show qualities of leadership, strong ambition etc. and even better if the Sun has tight positive conjunctions with benefics (especially jupiter) or the ruler of scorpio lies in any of these angular houses.

this is an extra sheet of information for anyone who may like to look at it more,

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phew it was long and confusing I know, but I hope this helps someone out there. I love you all

xoxo

paid readings are open :)

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GHOST!HAN, MEDIUM!READER, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, PERV!HAN, EXHIBITIONISM (?), POSSESSION, PENETRATION, UNPROTECTED SEX (?), MULTIPLE ROUNDS (2), MULTIPLE ORGASMS, DOM!JISUNG, PET NAMES (BABY, BABE). THE WORD “PERVERT” IS JOKINGLY THROWN AROUND, LMK IF I MISSED SOMETHING! ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The moment Y/n stepped into the apartment to tour it, she knew there was something in there. The relator did disclose someone had recently died in the apartment —which explained the lowered price compared to most units in the building. And she’d have to be crazy to not take that deal.

     A month after moving in, is when she actually noticed it. She’d always been more sensitive to the dead, seeing ghosts and the like. Never really interacted until now. 

     It was a long day after work. She was sitting on the couch watching one of her shows, trying to destress. Then she saw him. At first, she felt his presence and turned to him. The ghost had zero clue she had actually seen him. 

     “You know I can see you, right?” she asked him

     He blinked and took a moment to realize she was talking to him. 

     “Me?” he asked, pointing to himself 

     “Is there another ghost here I don’t know about?” 

     It was a very weird friendship from that point on. It was like having a pet. Jisung was always there, never left, a good companion. He just wasn’t as expensive as a pet. Oddly, he became one of her best friends and she told everything to him. And who was he going to tell?

     “What’s one thing you miss about living?” Y/n asked him one night as they were watching an anime he suggested.

     “Besides coffee and food; sex,” Jisung admitted 

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. Speaking of sex, you’re loud.”

     “Do you listen to me masturbating?” Y/n looked at him

     “Not by choice? I haunt this small one bedroom one bath unit. It’s hard not to hear,” Jisung defended himself. 

     “Perv,” Y/n joked and threw a pillow at him, just for it to go through him. 

     Jisung was very good at being able to take energy to take somewhat of a physical form. He was able to sit on the couch and chairs and pick up small items. Still was able to walk through basically everything and stuff mostly phased through him. Helped a bit that Y/n was a natural medium so he could pull from her to stabilize himself in the land of the living. 

     “Me?! I’ve seen some of the guys you’ve brought home! They are into some weird grade-A pervert things.”

     “I can’t even defend them because you’re right,” Y/n sighed, “They all suck in bed anyways.”

     “I know. Need I remind you of last weekend?”

     “No.” Y/n flushed, remembering when the guy she invited over in the midst of being just absolutely desperate for an actual cock.

     The guy had left after he finished and didn’t bother helping her get off and he was just an ass the whole time. Jisung watched the guy leave not even an hour later. He locked the apartment door after him before going and checking on her. 

     He didn’t think much of just walking through the wall into her room, only the be met with her fucking herself on a dildo. He should have left after but he definitely didn’t. She didn’t even notice his presence until after she finished.

     “You didn’t need to watch,” Y/n sighed

     “I mean, it was kind of hot,” Jisung shrugged 

     “Perv,” Y/n called him again

     “I can’t even really deny it now.” The two laughed as they switched their topic to the dumbass shit the mc in the anime was doing at the moment. 

     Three in the morning, Y/n was turning in bed, unable to sleep, and thinking about her earlier conversation with her ghost best friend. At the time the incident happened, she was shocked at him but thinking about it late at night, it was kind of hot.

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned, dipping her hand into her pajama pants and panties. Rubbing circles into her clit slowly. 

     She could feel Jisung close by in the small apartment. Not in the bedroom, but close. Y/n moved down to push a finger into her, eyes shut as she went through rubbing her walls and thrusting her finger in and out. 

     It wasn’t enough though. Even after she added a second finger into her, it wasn’t satisfying. She pulled her fingers out and sat up, grabbing a dildo and lube bottle from her bedside drawer and stripping herself of her pajamas and panties, rubbing lube on the toy before slowly pushing it into her, imagining her ghost roommate instead. 

     Jisung heard a noise coming from her room. At first, he thought nothing but curiosity hit. He stood outside her cracked door. Then he heard his name being moaned from inside. He went into the room and his jaw dropped at the sight. 

     The pretty girl that had moved into his old apartment in the wake of his death, was laying stark naked in his old room fucking herself with a toy, moaning his name. He didn’t know ghosts could get hard until now. 

     His eyes raked all along her body from her pretty cunt to her perky nipples. He was frozen. Not knowing what to do. Should he say something? Would she let him fuck her instead? Could he even fuck her?

     “Please, Ji. Wanna come,” Y/n whined as she pumped the dildo in and out of her. 

     If he could be in any more shock, he would. She was really fucking herself to the thought of him. God he wished he was alive. 

     Y/n sensed him in the room now. She was too wrapped up in her pleasure to look for him. Her legs opened more, slightly hoping he was watching her fuck herself again. The thought alone turned her on more. Suddenly she felt it get colder near her bed before it dipped down at the end. She slowed down and opened her eyes. 

     Jisung was leaning forward on the bed, eyes glued to her cunt. “Keep going baby,” Han told her. 

     Y/n felt shy all of a sudden. Legs closing to his view but he was quick. Pushed her legs open, sitting between them now. Y/n looked at him with wide eyes, no longer even trying to use the dildo. 

     “Don’t get all shy on me baby. Do you need me to help you get off now?” Jisung pushed the dildo into her again, a whine escaping her

     “Please, Ji. Need your help.”

     Her hand fell away as Jisung took over. Using all the energy he had to hold the base and quickly thrust the dildo in and out of her, watching as her hands moved to play with her nipples and head threw back into her pillow. Then he got an idea. 

     He didn’t know if it would work. But if he could phase through walls and sit on the sofa, he could try. 

     He worked the dildo with one hand as he pushed down his sweats. He was glad he did comfy and was going through the afterlife in a hoodie and sweats. His cock sprung free before he pushed the toy deep into her. 

     He took his hand off the toy and pushed himself into it, stopping when he got to his pelvis. Slowly, he pulled out, testing to see if the dildo would come with him. And it did. 

     Jisung smiled as Y/n looked down. Her face went red when she realized he had possessed the dildo. All thoughts left her as he harshly pushed back in, hands holding her hips. Her eyes went wide while Jisung fucked her. 

     His hands were cold on her skin. They left a trail of goosebumps on her skin as they ran up her skin and grabbed her breasts. Nipples hardened more under his phantom touch. 

     Her back arches as the toy hit a particular spot inside her. Legs shaking the longer he fucked her, not losing any stamina. Hips rolling against his before she finally came. Cursing and calling his name as she gripped her sheets. 

     Jisung slowed his pace down to let her come down from her high. He pulled the toy out and his own dick out of it as well while she caught her breath. Jisung looked over the faux cock covered in her juices. He really wished it was his dick instead that was covered. 

     Y/n focused on him staring at the toy. His own cock was still hard between her legs. 

     “Ji,” Y/n called to him. He focused back on her, one hand still on her breasts. 

     “Can I… please let me fuck you babe.” He squeezed her breasts. Y/n moaned before mumbling a “yes” for only him to hear. 

     Jisung wasted no time pushing himself into her again. It was an odd feeling at first. To feel full but not at the same time. Didn’t stop her from feeling him pounding her sensitive hole. 

     Y/n could only imagine just how good he was when he was alive. How she wished they met when he was still breathing. Probably would have saved so much heartbreak and shitty one-night stands. Especially with the way he was talking. 

     “Fuck. Wish I could feel you,” Jisung groaned, leaning over her and groping her breasts. 

     Everything around her was hot but cold at the same time. She was sensitive from the first orgasm on the toy but the odd feeling of Jisung inside her was doing more than she thought it would. 

     One thing she quickly figured out Jisung was a hundred percent a shit-talker during sex when he was alive. Proven by the way he was mumbling about “no one alive is gonna make you feel this good” and the “got you all pretty on my cock, huh? Like having your ghost roommate fuck you silly?”

     Definitely not Casper the Friendly Ghost but he could at least prove his shit talk. He did indeed have her fucked silly at the current moment.

     “Gonna come Ji,” Y/n warned him as her fingers reached between her legs to play with her clit

     “Give it to me baby. Wanna see you come for me,” His eyes watched where he disappeared in her and where she was playing with her clit. 

     Y/n bit her lower lip as she came for a second time that night because of her horny ghost roommate. 

     Jisung didn’t stop until moments later. He was burying himself in her before pulling out. He definitely felt the motions of an orgasm but when he pulled out, nothing followed nor did he feel anything come out. 

     “Damn. No more creampies,” He tsked after a minute once they both came down from their highs. 

     “You poor thing,” Y/n giggled as she sat up on her elbows. 

     “Maybe I should possess your next hook-up,” Jisung joked

     “They’d probably fuck better if you did.”

     Y/n for up on shaky legs to clean up so she could get some sleep. 

     “It wasn’t weird? Fucking a ghost?” Jisung asked once she came back to her room and tossed her pajamas back on. 

     “Kinda. But in a good way,” Y/n answered as she lay down under her covers

     “I wish I was still alive,” Jisung sighed as he lay next to her

     “Me too. But, we could probably have a lot more fun with you being a ghost.”

     “Who's the pervert now?”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie knows that he’s good at pushing buttons. It’s a whole-ass hobby for him, he’s pretty sure, given how much enjoyment he gets out of it combined with the skill-level (high, obviously – he’s had fifty-something years of practice). 

Steve, Eddie’s live-in husband, is on the receiving end of the button-pushing more than anyone else, and he’s a pretty good sport about it most of the time.

About once a year, though, Eddie manages to push the exact button that sends Steve straight into deep-freeze mode.

He’s very good at it. Maybe even as good as Eddie is at triggering it in the first place, so on day three of getting nothing but silence from Steve – his soulmate, the light and love of his life – he decides to take some action.

Action starts with bribing his two oldest daughters (away at college) into coming home for the weekend because…duh. Steve loves their kids more than anything (and definitely more than he loves Eddie at the moment), so that’s a relatively low-effort home run.

“So what the fuck did you do, then?” Moe asks the second she and Robbie walk through the door.

“Who says I did something?” Eddie counters (ridiculous, because he totally did do something, but damn, she could have jumped to that conclusion even a little slower).

Moe doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just fixes him with one of those Steve expressions she’s been firing at him since practically the day she was born.

“He totally did something,” Hazel tells them, “It might be hopeless. Getting you home might not even fix it.”

“Oh, how you underestimate me, daughters,” Eddie says, “This is just phase one.”

He holds up his phone to show that he’s already calling Robin.

She picks up only a second later.

“What do you want, Edward?”

“Hey Buck. Just wanted to make sure you don’t forget about dinner at our house tonight.”

Robin is silent for a while.

“Uh…what dinner?”

“You know! Dinner! We’ve got all three kids home this weekend, remember? You were gonna bring that game Steve likes? He’s all excited!”

“Oh my god,” Robbie mutters, “You are such a gaslighter.”

 Eddie silently flips her off.

“Let me see if Nanc–”

“Nope,” Eddie hastily interrupts, “Don’t ask Nancy. Just be here quarter to five.”

“Uh, oka–”

Eddie hung up.

“Pa-thetic.” Moe rolls her eyes.

Steve emerges from his office exactly at five o'clock that evening to see that their kitchen is filled with his children and friends and the smell of what Eddie’s got cooking on the stove, and it isn’t until he’s got a massive grin on his face and his arms around Robin’s shoulders that he finally asks, “Wait – what are you all doing here?” 

“You didn’t know we were coming?” Robin asks, shooting Eddie a suspicious look.

“No, they aren’t talking,” Hazel pipes up.

Eddie surreptitiously smacks her arm and mutters, “Be cool, will you?”

[mv1simp]

I am in ur walls

I have come to raise the idea of, and hear me out, Max x PR officer reader. I’m just gonna yap now, hear me out

Like can you imagine Max going through his hoe phase and reader having to clean up his image, and she’s just fondly like UGH MAX. Part of her is like blehhhhh because more work, but the bigger part of her is like ✨jealous✨

And then at some point she makes an offhand comment like if you want to be a whore, can you at LEAST not make more work for me????

Cue Max and her starting to be a thing, and him trying to rile her up enough to get her to be their own PR issue just for shits and giggles and he gets quite risque and horny and her resistance to it just turns him on even more until he’s saying and doing the filthiest shit in the middle of the paddock just to get her to crack——

Also can you imagine how hilarious it would be if they get caught and GP is like NOT YOU TOO READER LIKE DOES HE HAVE A MAGIC DICK OR SMTH——

WELCOME TO MY WALLS!!! This idea HAS ME ahahahah see I was always a crackfic writer at age 12 on wattpad, its time to remerge into the light with this prompt

Like you know how max is so millennial coded. And she’s actually the same age as him but he thinks she’s older cause she’s always looking so stressed. And she like um that’s cause you’re a fuckin manwhore max?!? Have you thought about celibacy for a hot second? And as they become better friends she demands he hand over his card so she can invest in some good skincare

(max also suggests maybe she needs to get dicked down good, he’s happy to provide that if she wants or? 🤭🤭)

But anyways she’s pumping out Gen z memes left right and centre to distract the masses from his slut era and he’s always like wdym “i have zero rizz and am a bitchless cat dad”?? I know memes?? Remember hawk thua-

ALSO WHENEVER HE REALLY TRIES TO RILE HER UP ON THE PADDOCK AND SHE CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT SHE MAKES HIM DO THE MOST ANNOYING SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGES TO GET BACK AT HIM like imagine her making him do a kiss marry kill with the drivers and he’s like 😑😑 and everyone’s like babes come here we got max Verstappen saying he’d kiss Alonso, marry charles and kill George before GTA 2024

ALSO I’m jumping the gun but after he ✨seduces her ✨ there’s so much scope for the classic shenanigans. Accidentally wearing shirts inside out. Accidentally wearing each others Redbull shirt and she could get away with oversized style but everyone’s like “max why tf are u wearing a crop top”. (GP knows. He knows and he can’t look either of you in the eye. Everyone has started asking why he loudly announces himself and waits 10 seconds before walking around the corners of the Redbull garage and he’s like…no reason. But his face is one of a man who has seen many, many things)

Anyway you have ban any contact of sexual nature after that incident that you have dubbed CropTopGate. But obviosuly that just makes max even more feral cause we know how competitive he is 😼

ALSO he’s notorious for going through personal managers as well but once you two start getting tension but you’re still all like “nooo 6 foot driver millionaires aren’t my type okayyyy 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️”

So he demands that you be promoted to his personal events manager as well. To which you are adamantly like NO knowing what this means for your poor self control but Christian Horner is like yes maxie boo 🥰 so now you also accompany max to all his lil modelling gigs, looking anywhere but at him while he stands shirtless next to you with a cocky grin.

OR LIKE IMAGINE HE AND A MODEL ARE DOING AN ADVERTISEMENT TOGETHER LIKE ONE OF THOSE SEXY PERFUME ONES. AND DURING A BREAK THE PHOTOGRAPHER NOTICES YOU AND MAX TALKING TOGETHER

and he’s like i don’t care who you are get over here NOW this sexual chemistry is insane so you end up in a very compromising pose up against max verstappen, F1 driver, cat dad, and certified slut while he’s whispering dirty things in your ear

(He catches on quick that you really likes it when he speaks Dutch, good thing you can’t understand it cause he’s just reciting his grocery list and enjoying watching you blush and squeeze your legs together)

very cute idea hehe thank you for messaging!! I LIVE for some sexual tension, reader is a better woman than me for trying to resist the advances of max 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[mountainsandmayhem]

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

18+

Series Masterlist

Summary: Joel takes matters into his own hands to deal with your newly insatiable sex drive with a little help from a u shaped friend. TW: softdom!Joel, female orgasms (like a lot of them), oral (fem!rec), this is all about her A/N: THANK YOU for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my last story! I fully believe only 1 or 2 people will read these and I'm just floored by the response so far. I wish I could write without a plot, but I added some backstory about these two. Word Count: 4.3k

Ellie has always been a tornado in your life. Her biological mom was your childhood best friend. She had her demons, so you can’t say you were surprised when during her weekend trip to visit you with her new baby she disappeared, leaving you with little Ellie. 

Overnight, you went from a 22-year-old young woman starting your third year of your degree to a 22-year-old adoptive single mom pushing through your third year of college. 

Your parents were helpful, driving four hours from the small town you grew up in every weekend so you could work or do homework. They offered to take Ellie for a while or help you find people to adopt her, but that little tornado of a girl was your priority and you weren’t going to abandon her like her mother. 

She broke her arm at 2 on her big wheel, and at 3 she needed 10 stitches across her eyebrow from when she tried to leap from the kitchen table to the granite island. Safe to say the granite won as she still bears that scar today. At 4, she bolted up the stairs to the high dive and jumped off without an ounce of fear. Thank god she was already a strong swimmer.

She seemed to crave chaos, so when she befriended the girl with wildly curly hair on her first day of school you just shook your head, predictable little tornado. 

Thankfully Sarah Miller was a sweet and kind-hearted girl, maybe even a little shy. It also helped that Sarah’s young dad, who didn’t wear a wedding ring, resembled a Greek god. Tall and broad with tanned skin, he owned some sort of contracting business based on the truck he’d do school pick up and drop off in. When the girls introduced you two, he flashed you a small smile, revealing that goddamn dimple. 

You’re both pretty sure the girls played a hand in the two of you eventually getting together, granted they both conveniently don’t remember playing tiny matchmakers. They’d ask for sleepovers and playdates almost daily, or sign you both up to the same shift at school events.

“Mommy, I swear on the moon that the teacher picked!” Ellie said when you had the coat check station at the Valentine's Day dance. “Buuuut you might want to put on lipstick.” 

It’s been a little over 14 years since then and he still sets your blood on fire with that dimple. 

Both of you approached this new empty nest phase apprehensively, but it turns out that having the house to yourself (with no risk of one of the girls walking in) opened a whole new set of rather kinky doors. Not that you were necessarily vanilla before, but while they lived there you didn’t have ropes and paddles hanging on your bedroom wall, or the hooks on your four-poster bed.

You also never would have been how you are now, bathroom door wide open in only the trousers you planned to wear to work. 

“Not that I’m complainin’ sweetheart. But why are you topless?” Joel asks on his way to the kitchen. 

“It’s too damn hot in here.” You grumble, getting out your skincare and makeup. 

Joel shook his head to himself as he walked to the kitchen. He knew better than to bring up that it wasn’t the temperature, it was you and your recent perimenopause diagnosis. He hated to see you suffering, but your newly insatiable libido gave him an idea. 

As you get ready, Joel leans against the bathroom door frame drinking coffee, observing you through the mirror. 

You see him most days in his typical work attire - dark jeans, a t-shirt with his company logo, and a flannel or denim button-up. But it will never get old to you. You almost find him sexier in this than in a suit. Especially when he has the cuffs rolled like he does today. 

“Little Dove?” His voice is deep and scratchy. 

A slight blush paints your cheeks, knowing that it’s going to be one of those days. 

“Yes, sir?” 

He slowly walks towards you as you lean into the mirror to blink on some mascara. He stops just a hair away from you, not touching you but close. Close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him. He waits until you’ve put the mascara wand away, and uses his free hand to trace a line slowly down your spine. 

A shiver runs through you, and you let out a small moan. Partly from the feeling of him, but mostly at the reprieve from the hot flash you’re experiencing. 

“How many orgasms do you think I could give you before you beg me to stop?” He kisses the top of your left shoulder, watching your eyes widen slightly in the mirror. 

Goosebumps spread across your body. If he wants to play, you’ll make it difficult for him. “Well, after the little kidnapping the other night you gave in after three.” 

“This is about you giving up and not me giving in,” His free hand continues a light trail along your bare back. 

“And didn’t you say you felt like you had done an intense Pilates workout the next day?” He adds teasingly.

You were hoping he’d forgotten about how you groaned as you lowered yourself into the bathtub to soak your sore muscles. Even though your hormones seemed to think you were a teenager again, your body took a little longer to recover. Joel cared for you in a way that only he could; making dinner, wrapping you in your beloved heated blanket, and gently massaging your hips and legs. 

You don’t want to give up this easily so you scoff and say, “Please, old man. You’d get tired before I’d quit.” 

The next two things happen so quickly that it’s over before the excited squeal leaves your lips. He spins you to face him and lifts you onto the countertop, caging you between his arms, his hands gripping the vanity on either side of you.  

“Now now, Little Dove. I’d be careful who you call old.” His recently playful tone is back to a deep gravel-like command that settles right between your thighs. 

“You will refer to me as sir in these moments and nothing else. Do you understand?”

You nod eagerly sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, fuck you love him like this. 

He kisses down your neck towards your right breast. Pausing he adds, “Words, Little Dove,” before gently dragging your right nipple through his teeth. 

You let out a desperate moan arching your back into the pain, “Yes, sir.” 

Joel quickly steps back, taking his coffee cup with him. “Be a good girl today.” 

+++++

You spend your workday trying not to think about Joel. You immerse yourself in your to-do list and your team gets a few projects done early and sent off for approval. You’ve almost forgotten about the morning events when you hear your phone buzz. 

Joel: When I get home I want you in that little black lacy thing, Little Dove. I’m bringing home dinner. 

You reply with a funny ‘yes, sir’ gif.

Joel: Oh, my sweet Little Dove. I’m almost starting to think you like it when I punish you. 

You: Do your worst, I won’t tap out.

Joel: Tell me what you’re going to be doing when I get home.

You find a photo of you wearing the aforementioned ‘little black lacy thing’ and attach it to your message that says, “Wearing this, sir.” 

Joel: Be kneeling beside the couch when I get home. 

You: Yes, sir. 

++++

The rest of your day goes by tortuously slowly, yet the drive home seemed suspiciously fast. You laugh to yourself picturing a speeding ticket in the mail and Joel’s reaction when you tell him he has to pay it since it’s his fault. Maybe you’ll ask him when he’s in a sir mood.

You hop in the shower, shave and touch up your makeup before clipping and clasping yourself into the outfit Joel loves so much. As you step back to admire yourself in the full-length mirror you realize certain squishy parts of your body don’t look great in this.

Focus on the positive, you remind yourself. 

The deep v-halter of the one-piece garment accentuates your breasts, you spin to take in the low cut back and high cut cheeky bottom that highlights the globes of your ass. 

The familiar sounds of Joel’s truck pulling up the driveway sends a rush of nervous and excited butterflies through your stomach. You hurry to the sitting room, grab a throw pillow from the couch and kneel. 

Your eyes follow as Joel heads to the kitchen, holding a bag from your favourite sushi restaurant.  He places it on the island before looking up at you with dark eyes

“Look at the ground and put your hands on your lap.” He commands. 

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling as you look down and do as he says. 

“Little Dove, don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice deepens with every word, instantly setting your core on fire. 

He’s silent for a moment and you can feel his eyes on you. “From now on when I say to kneel, this is how you’ll be. Understand?” 

You squeeze your thighs a little tighter, breathing starting to shallow at the sound of his voice as he slips deeper into sir mode. 

You reply with a breathy, “Yes sir. Sorry.” 

Joel walks over and pets your head. “You look stunning like this.” He whispers, before turning and leaving you alone. 

His words feel like warm honey being drizzled down your spine. No one makes you feel as desired as Joel and immediately your earlier body insecurities vanish. You can hear him moving things around the bedroom before he walks back to the kitchen but you don’t dare look up. You’re a good girl, Joel doesn’t like brats, and right now all that matters is pleasing him. 

Joel sets up dinner, arranges the sushi on plates, opens the wine and lights a candle before sitting at the table, legs spread, facing you. 

“Crawl to me, Little Dove.” His deep voice washes over you. Almost as if it puts you in a trance. You know your knees are going to regret this in the morning, but you’re so turned on that you don’t hesitate to crawl across the area rug and then onto the hardwood flooring Joel installed himself.

Stopping between his bare legs, his strong hand cradles your chin and tilts it up, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and tight black boxers. But it’s the sleek black remote control vibrator in his other hand that steals your attention.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a soft moan, gently stroking your cheek. “Go put this in, and then come back and have dinner with me.”

He helps you to your feet and hands you the vibrator. He turns you towards the half bath off the kitchen and pats your bum gently while you walk away. 

Joel has laid out everything you might need on the counter. After cleaning the toy, you push the thin fabric of your lingerie aside and slide it inside yourself. You can already feel pressure on that little spongy part inside you that Joel loves to tease. As you wash your hands you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 

I can do this, you say to yourself. 

As soon as you step out of the bathroom and make eye contact with Joel the toy comes to life. Your false confidence from a few seconds ago buckles along with your knees as you brace yourself on the door frame and let out a breathy gasp. 

“I want you to keep count and thank me for each one, Little Dove. Understand?” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you moan, crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. 

The vibration stops, you take a few deep breaths before standing up tall and walking over to the table. Always the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and kisses the top of your head before taking his seat. 

“Eat while we go over some ground rules, Little Dove.” 

You don’t have to be told twice, you love sushi and you’re probably going to need your strength for the evening. 

“You are going to need a safe word tonight.” Your mouth goes dry and you become accurately aware of the small remote control in his possession. 

“We are going to use a colour coding system, much like traffic lights. If I ask you for a colour tonight you have three options. Green means you want to keep going,” he emphasizes the word you. 

“Yellow means you need a break and will let me know when you’re ready again. Say red and we stop.” Joel pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, sir,” you reply in between bites. 

He picks up his wine and takes a sip before continuing softly, reaching across to grab your hand. “But baby, you can say yellow or red at any time. If you need a break or reassurance, say yellow. And if it’s too intense and you need me to stop, say red. We’ve done our research on this. But you need to know that if you say stop, or that you need a break, or even if you’re crying and saying I’m hurting you, I will not stop. Colours only. Understand?”

You nod while taking a big mouthful of wine, the nervous excitement that you’ve been feeling all day courses through your body. As your wine glass is put back on the table the vibrating starts again, stronger this time. 

“You should know by now that you need to use your fucking words, Little Dove.” He says darkly. 

“Yes,” you stammer. “Yes. I under….I understand, sir.”

The vibrating stops and you let out a breathy, Oh god.

You both eat your dinner and finish the wine, this man could give you whiplash with how quickly he can go from sir to family man.  He asks about your day and tells you about the new apprentice he’s hired. When you both finish eating he takes the dishes to the sink. He turns to face you, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the ropes of muscles lining his biceps. 

“Little Dove, do I have your consent to make you come until you use a safe word?” 

Again, the whiplash. 

Your mouth goes dry as you reply with his preferred ‘yes, sir.’ 

The toy comes to life again, on a higher setting than the last 2 times. You lean forward so your ass is slightly off the chair to ease some of the intensity. You’re not a stranger to a vibrator, but never one that’s pushed this firmly against your g spot and your clit. The seat of your chair is clamped between your fingers as you cry out in pleasure. 

“Don’t make me tie you to that fucking chair. Sit down, Little Dove.”

You do as he says, letting out a desperate moan as the hard seat presses the two ends of the u shaped toy deeper and harder against your g spot. 

“Oh fuck - fuck - m’gonna…” you close your eyes and your head falls back as the white heat in your center starts to reach its breaking point. 

Joel strides over to you and grabs your chin, twisting you slightly to face him. “Look at me, I want to see it when you come.” 

“J-Joel,” his hand doesn’t leave your chin and he watches you with such admiration as you start to come undone. 

“That’s it, Little Dove,” he whispers as he places a few kisses along your jaw towards your ear adding, “Let go for me.” 

Your orgasm hits you hard, spreading from the base of your spine and out to every inch of your body. Wave after wave flows through you, intensified by the look of admiration spreading across Joel's face.  

“There you go - good girl.” 

Your fingers start to ache as you fight to stay seated in the chair, his wishes are your command and you’ll do anything to hear him praise you again. You squirm against the seat as overstimulation starts to take over. 

“Please, sir,” you beg, “fuck! I need…I need to move.” 

“So beautiful when you beg, Little Dove….count it for me” He says. 

“One sir, thank you.” It comes out weak and breathy, a voice you didn’t expect after only one orgasm. 

“Give me a colour, baby.” His voice is almost soothing as he torments you with the vibrator. 

Current state aside, you’re not giving up or giving in after one orgasm, even if it is still coursing through you minutes later. 

“Green!” You scream, shifting yourself off the chair slightly as he switches to a new vibration setting.  Its intensity varies and shifts, and the anticipation of never knowing what might hit you next is a new level of wonderful torture.

Joel slides your chair out and kneels in front of you, pushing your hips back down to the chair. 

“I will tie you down if you don’t stay still, Little Dove,” he growls before slamming his lips into yours.

A second orgasm tears through your body, your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you try not to move. It’s no use, the vibrations are too intense and you buck your hips up while your head falls back breaking the kiss. 

The kitchen fills with your cries of ecstasy. Somehow you manage to count and thank him for the second one before he turns off the toy and pulls you to your feet. You grip his strong forearms to steady yourself, your pussy still fluttering against the weight of the vibrator. 

“You have five seconds before I turn this on high, Little Dove. Unless you can make it to the bedroom before that.” 

Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, but your competitive side kicks in and you sprint down the hallway as he loudly and authoritatively counts to five. You almost make it through the bedroom when you feel the most intense vibration hit your swollen g spot. You stumble forward, folding your upper body onto the bed. Your brain scrambles to catch up to your body as it processes that you’re not in pain but instead in a state of agonizing pleasure. 

Joel walks up behind you, pressing himself against your ass. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” he praises before landing a hard slap on your right ass cheek. 

Your body is suspended in that moment right before you come. You almost feel like you’re floating and the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even make a noise as you clench the bedsheet in your fists to try to ground yourself. 

He uses his body to pin you down, folding over you and whispering “Give me a colour,” in your ear. 

“Green” comes out in a shaky whisper. 

“That’s my girl.” He says proudly, biting your shoulder blade. 

Again it’s his words that do it, my girl, and you finally tip over the edge and tremble underneath him. Joel kisses and sucks the skin of your upper back, every inch of your body feels encompassed by him and crying out for relief, but you’re not giving in. 

“Ah - fuuuuck…” you feel like this orgasm has been going on for hours.

“I wish you could see how good you look right now.” 

“Stop. P-please. Stop,” you beg in between gasps of air. 

As you come down from your high the vibrating slows to a small tickle, not enough to make you come again but enough to remind you that it’s there.

Can someone die from an orgasm? 

“Take off your clothes,” Joel growls in your ear, slapping your right ass cheek as he peels himself off of you. “I’m not stopping until you use the safe word, Little Dove.” 

He pulls his shirt off and watches as you undo the clasps and clips of your lingerie and slide it off with shaky hands. 

As you lay on the bed you say, “I’m not a fucking quitter, sir.” 

Joel smirks, laughing through his nose a little as he wraps a silk cuff around each ankle, spreading your legs apart for him. “How many are we at so far?” 

As he cuffs your wrists you reply. “Three. Thank you, sir.” 

He kisses your forehead as he slowly removes the vibrator. “Fuck me,” he says, “look at this mess, such a good girl for me.” 

You close your eyes and let the praise wash over you like a warm bath. Joel shifts his body between your legs and places two little kisses on your swollen clit making you whimper and suck your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit making you come instantly with a whimpering ‘four, thank you, sir,’ at the end. 

Joel doesn’t stop, switching to use his tongue while keeping the same pace and pressure as you come again.

“Ah - five, thank you, sir!”

….and again….”fuck, six. Thank you, sir.”

...and again….”s-seven - oh god - thank y-you, sir.” 

Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as a cool liquid drizzles down your pussy. You gasp at the new sensation, eyes shooting to his face. 

“Stay still, Little Dove.” 

As he runs his fingers up and down your pussy, the lube turns warm and tingly, heightening his touches. Joel draws circles on your clit with his thumb, pursing his lips and blowing cool air. The warmth turns icy cold, and when he stops blowing, heat rushes to your pussy, pulling another orgasm from you. 

Yes, I’m certain someone can die from an orgasm. 

“Count, Little Dove.” 

A whine escapes your lips as you try to tug your legs together. His thumb has slowed down but it’s all becoming too much. “Eight. I can’t anymore, sir.” 

He blows cool air again and the heat rushing has you keening all over again. 

“Please, Joel. I can’t. Please.” Tears spring from your eyes. 

“You’re ok. You can do this, baby.” Cool air hits your pussy again and you come apart.  “Good girl. So gorgeous. Count it for me, Little Dove.” 

“Nine. N-nine,” your eyes slam shut as he pulls away from you. “T-thank you, sir.” 

Before you’ve even finished thanking him, he slides his middle finger inside you, lightly massaging your g spot that’s still so sensitive from the vibrator. He pushes one of his strong hands down on your mound as he torturously works you toward your tenth orgasm. 

“No…please. Sir, I,” you gasp as you try to pull free. 

“I can’t,” the pleasure is almost painful at this point as the pressure from your arousal builds. He knows your close, he’s been dying to make you squirt again after the other night. 

“Color,” Joel says tenderly, slipping a second finger inside you and hooking the forward. 

You swallow hard against your sore and scratchy throat. You whine ‘green’, as you arch your back to try to ease the intense mixture of pain, pleasure and pressure that you’re experiencing. 

“Stay still, Little Dove,” Joel pushes harder on your lower belly. “Give me number ten. Show me, baby. Show me how good this feels.” 

You swear that everything stops, including your heart and time, as you fall apart under his touch and gush all over his hand. The walls of your pussy are clenching around Joel’s fingers and you can feel a puddle forming underneath you.  You think you hear Joel praising you, but the sound is muffled by your gasps and moans.  If you lived in an apartment your neighbours might think you were being tortured based on the loud cries coming out of you. Joel is sure that he’ll be making you a hot toddy to ease your throat later, but right now he’s hyper-focused on getting you through this orgasm.

As you start to come down his hand slows, “relax, baby.”

 “Red. S-stop. Fuck Joel, red.” 

Joel gently removes his fingers, shifting quickly to undo your restraints. You’re shivering and exhausted as he pulls you into his arms and away from the soaked sheets.

Everything Joel Miller does is done with the utmost care and attention, including aftercare. Your heated blanket is already warmed up, tucked near the headboard. He pulls it over you and places a featherlight kiss on your sweaty forehead. 

“I got you, darlin’. Shhh. I got you.” He holds you tighter as you melt into him. 

After a few moments of silence, you tilt your face up to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks gently.

You bite your bottom lip to stop a smile. “Ya, that was - amazing.” 

You laugh a little and tuck back into his chest. “Are you sure? I’m so proud of you for using a safe word, but I need to ensure I didn’t hurt you.” 

You shake your head and fight to stay awake. “No…you didn’t” you mumble sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I’m great - just one minute…then I’ll do something for you.” 

Joel laughs softly and tilts your face up to his. He presses his lips to yours gently. “That was for me, Little Dove. Sleep for a little bit, I’ll wake you up for electrolytes and food.”

The warmth of your blanket takes over, you whisper an ‘I love you’ just as you drift off, thanking whoever brought this beautiful man into your life. 

++++++++++

Taglist: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut

[tkwrites]

Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself) - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Summary: Still upset about finding out about Sarah from Brady, Jack has some hesitations when he and Luke come to town for the Finals. Can he get over himself enough to see what Quinn and Sarah have is real?

Warnings: Angst, sibling fighting, light body shaming

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for almost three months and tossing around ideas for it since December. On Thursday, something clicked into place, and the story just fell together. I really like the way it turned out, and I hope you like it too! 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

 Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself)

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah was sitting in the living room, trying not to freak out. Their night before had been one to remember, and her hips were still sore and achy from it in the most satisfying way. 

But even remembering Quinn giving her so many orgasms she lost count — murmuring how proud he was of her with each and every one of them — couldn’t take away from the fact that his brothers were about to arrive. 

Sarah and her siblings were close, but Quinn and his brothers were closer. They were all in the same phase of life - all playing professional hockey, all unmarried, and all figuring things out. Even Luke, who she knew, had been dating his girlfriend Kylee for two and a half years wasn’t in a place to get married, especially not while Kylee was still in school. 

It was so different from her own siblings, who were both in the young family stage of life while she was still figuring out no-longer-single life and dating-a-professional-athlete life. 

She loved her siblings, but they had less in common than they used to.

It felt like a huge test to be accepted by his family — his best friends. She wasn’t totally sure what she’d do if they didn’t like her. 

When she’d brought that up to Quinn after they’d finally collapsed into bed, he had pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and assured her, “they’re going to love you. I love you, so they’re going to love you.” 

She hadn’t pointed out how flawed his logic was. 

Quinn appeared at her side, holding a shot of rum, “here, I think you might need this.” 

“I thought you said I don’t have anything to be worried about!”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “but you think I should take a shot?” 

He gulped nervously, “Jack can just be kind of a lot. I’m not sure he’s totally over the whole, I didn’t tell him first thing.” 

Her eyes went wide, and while Quinn had the best of intentions, he realized what a stupid move this was. Instead of calming her down, he was making her more anxious. He tried to backtrack, “you don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” he said before starting back to the bar — intent on dumping the alcohol down the drain.

“No, come back.” 

He turned, and she reached for the small glass, “it will take the edge off.”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed the liquor into her mouth. As soon as she’d swallowed, she pulled a face, “ugh, I hate shots. Remind me to never do that again.” 

Laughing, he lifted the glass out of her hands and leaned down to kiss her. They stayed that way for a while, each of them remembering slices of the night before. 

His phone trilled. He would have picked them all up from the airport, but Jack had insisted on renting a car for them to use while they were here, so there was no need.

The dinner they’d ordered was on it’s way, and everything was going to be fine. 

Having finished her finals the day before, Sarah had spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping in Quinn’s bed. He’d left for practice, then crawled back in bed with her when he got home, happy to fall asleep again, holding her close.

As a result, he looked refreshed and clear headed. 

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator dinged. 

She nodded, standing and wrapping her arms around his torso. 

She was wearing the same jeans she’d worn when she met the team and a cream colored top, partially unbuttoned, so he could see just a hint of her cleavage.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured. 

The very fact that he kept saying it made Sarah wonder if he was trying to convince himself into believing it. 

She should have worn the green dress. When she’d been packing to stay at Quinn’s overnight, she’d convinced herself the boyfriend jeans were lucky enough now, and she didn’t need to pull out the big guns. Plus, she didn’t want Quinn to think she only had one outfit she wore when she was nervous. Now, that didn’t seem like it mattered much, and she wished she had the comforting assurance of it with her. 

When Quinn opened the door and his brothers came tumbling into the apartment, Sarah immediately understood what her own brother had missed out on by only having two sisters. 

They were so distinctly…male. There was a lot of congratulatory hair mussing and punching going on in celebration of Quinn making the finals.

Ellen was dutifully waiting for them to be done so she could hug her eldest. 

To Sarah’s surprise, Jim was the first one to greet her, offering a hug she gladly accepted. 

When they broke apart, Quinn moved to introduce everyone, “Sarah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him, “these are my brothers Jack and Luke. Guys, this is Sarah.” 

Luke gave her a shy smile and offered her a hand to shake. Jack didn’t move other than to give her a curt nod. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face she hoped masked her disappointment at his clipped response. 

Ellen rolled her eyes and crossed the room to give her a hug. 

The front desk buzzed up to let them know their food was delivered, and Sarah offered to go collect it just to get away from the tense meeting. 

When they sat down to eat, Sarah was able to engage Luke in conversation, and they started talking about his girlfriend Kylee, who would be coming out once she had finished her finals. Once the ice was broken, Luke was easy to talk to, and they swapped stories about work and growing up.

More than once in their conversation, Sarah caught Ellen shooting disappointed looks at her middle son, who couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, but didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, and Jack spoke for the first time, “so, Sarah, what are you going to do when you’re done with school?” His tone was almost accusatory, like he expected her to say she would be moving to Dubai and leaving Quinn behind.

“I’m not really sure yet. I like working at the aquarium, so I wouldn’t mind staying there. But if I could get a job in conservation, that would be ideal. I feel more passionate about it.” 

“What would you do in conservation?” he asked. It sounded a little like they were rehearsed questions on Jacks part, as if he were trying to appease someone by making conversation but didn’t actually care much about the subject. 

“Well, there’s a lot that crosses over in terms of what can be done in the wild to make our oceans more habitable to everything that lives in them. And if we need to do any rescue and rehab, I can help care for most of those animals.” 

“So you’re like a vet?” 

“No, I can’t administer any medical treatment, but I can assist. I thought about going into veterinary medicine, but it would have meant seven more years of school, and there’s a lot of aspects of being a vet that terrify me.” 

“Like what?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, as if her admitting she had weaknesses was completely unexpected. 

Sarah flicked a glance at Quinn, who was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was getting at. 

“Well, I’m not great with blood, for one. Plus, the smell of hospitals tends to give me panic attacks.” 

Somehow, this admission made Jack relax. She was human, after all. When they met June, she was all smiles and rainbows and didn’t admit to having faults of any kind. Quinn talked about how genuine Sarah was, but Jack wanted to see it for himself. 

Quinns eyes darted to her, and she gave him a small smile. 

“What is it about hospitals?” Jim asked. 

She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn’s hand under the table. Their fingers entwined, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“My mom died of cancer, so she spent a good portion of the last six months of her life in a hospital, and every time I came home, I would have to see her there. The smell always transports me straight back.” 

Quinn didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, blinking a few times. 

Jack looked between them and felt something twist in his gut. This was so much more serious than he wanted to believe. He’d seen the signs from Quinn — the dreamy look he often got when he talked about her, and how it seemed like they were together all the time, or the way he talked about the future, like he couldn’t envision one without her in it. 

The two sides of his mind warred. On one hand, he was glad Quinn found her, but on the other, he was still pissed he was the last one to know. He and Quinn were supposed to be best friends as well as brothers. He’d never keep something like that from Quinn, and it hurt every time he remembered Brady asking, “so what do you think of Sarah?”

Then, there was the whole issue of Sarah herself. Not that she was bad looking. She was pretty. But June was gorgeous, and Jack couldn’t help but think that Sarah was a bit of a step down. 

The meal ended on less tense terms than it started on, and Quinn took Sarah home. 

“Was it okay?” he asked. 

She knotted her fingers together in her lap, “I don’t know. Was it? You know Jack better than I do.” 

One of his hands dragged over his face before he reached for hers. 

Gratefully, she took it, glad for the reassurance of his touch. 

He felt off kilter. The end was such a stark contrast to the beginning that he had a hard time reconciling that morning as part of the same day. 

“Can you come up for a minute?” she asked when he pulled in front of her building. 

He glanced over with raised eyebrows only to find nervousness clearly written on her face. “Yeah, of course,” he said and flipped around to find a spot to park. 

They got up to her apartment, which she knew would be empty - Eunice had gone home to stay with her parents for a week, and Jane was working. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“What’s up?” Quinn asked, his hands heavy and comforting on the small of her back. 

“I just —” Sarah could feel the tears she’d pushed off for the drive home forcing their way up to the surface. 

She sniffed, and Quinn pulled back, “what’s wrong?” 

Sarah wiped her cheeks. “What if —” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she needed to. Talking about it would make it better. She knew that, but it was still scary as hell to voice the anxiety that was eating away at her peace of mind. Not only was the summer going to fucking suck, “I think Jack hates me.” 

Something behind his sternum fractured, “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she asked, “really? Because it doesn’t seem like he likes me very much.”

“I think he just needs time to adjust to the situation. He’s still mad at me that I didn’t tell them first.”

“I don’t understand that either. My sister was the second person I told.” Technically, she’d been the 4th with her roommates, but no need to split hairs. Rachel was the second person she’d told on purpose.

He pulled a calming breath into his chest. “I think Brady mentioned June to you?” She nodded, and he continued, “June was…” how did he even find the right words? “We dated for a long time. Way longer than we should have. We weren’t good together. I mean, you know all that weird shit she had about sex, and she would break up with me every few months, then come back after a few days, begging to get back together.” 

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It wasn’t great,” he admitted ruefully. “Anyway, my family never really came out and said they didn’t like her. They only said it after I called it off for good. I remember Jack told me, ‘Thank god, I never liked that bitch.’” 

Sarah wrinkled her nose, and Quinn laughed, “yeah. Brady was the only one who told it to me straight from the beginning. He was pretty frank with me; his family doesn’t really beat around the bush about anything. He encouraged me to break it off for good. Anyway, when we met,” he gestured between them, “I was kind of hesitant to tell anyone. Not because I thought you were like June. You’re not. In any way. But I didn’t… I didn’t really trust my own judgment, you know?” 

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. That was something they could unpack later.

“I wanted Brady to meet you first since he and Emma had been so honest.” 

This, she knew from conversations with Ellen and Brady himself, but it was nice to hear it from Quinn. 

“Before I had a chance to tell him, Brady asked Jack what he thought of you while they were playing in Ottawa, and he called me, pretty pissed. I think he’s still caught on that.” 

Pursing her lips, she wasn’t totally sure what the protocol for this was. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t want —” she broke off, feeling she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want Jack to come between them. She didn’t want to have to forge a new relationship when Quinn’s brother and best friend didn’t like her, and she didn’t want to put Quinn in a position where he would have to choose.

That fracturing feeling was back. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn said, picking up on what he thought the subtext of the conversation was as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think he just needs time. Jack doesn’t really hate anyone. It’s not in his nature.” 

“Was he like this with Kylee?” 

“No, but Luke and Kylee were friends in high school and college, so we knew her before they started dating.” 

She thunked her forehead onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. 

One of his hands ran over her hair, “I’m sorry. I know this put you in a really weird position.” 

She felt his words in his chest at the same time she heard them and swallowed the feeling whole. 

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, nuzzling into his shirt

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. Definitive. Simple. Straight to the point. 

She knew she sounded whiney, but she needed to say it, “but what happens if he never likes me? I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose.” 

“Jack’ll come around. He’s never been able to hold grudges for very long.”

Looking up at him, then, hope filled her face, and he kissed her, hoping it reassured her. He was sure Jack would come around as soon as he could get his head out of his ass.  

“I’m sorry, but I need to get back,” he said as gently as he could. Not only was there a game tomorrow, he knew his brothers would want to talk. 

Swallowing down the loneliness of being in the apartment by herself for the night, she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

‘Tomorrow,” he repeated before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. One more?”

He couldn't resist.

One turned into six or seven, and he pulled away feeling light. “Jack’ll come around,” he assured again before kissing her once more and turning to go. 

“I mean, she’s pretty and all,” Jack was saying as they stood in the living room. Their parents had gone to bed, so it was best to have this conversation on the floor below. “But don’t you think she’s a little big?”

Luke stared at Jack while Quinn glared at him. “What?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, she has a pretty face, but her thighs are kind of huge.” 

Luke spoke before Quinn could follow through with punching his brother in the face. “Is this because you actually think that, or because you’re mad Quinn didn’t trust you enough to tell you first?” 

“Trust us,” Jack corrected through a jaw clenched so tight, it answered Lukes question for him. 

“Fine. Whatever,” Luke said. He’d come to terms with it. He had been too scared to tell Quinn what he thought of June. After thinking it over, it did make sense for him to go to the only person in his life who made their concerns clear and keep Sarah from everyone else. They got attached to June, or at least to the idea of her. Luke had never really liked her. But he liked the idea of Quinn having a girlfriend. Of him having someone here in Van while the rest of them were all out east. 

Now that he had met Sarah in person, not just talked on the phone with her - which Jack had made feel more like a job interview than a welcoming, get to know you chat - he understood just how bad of a match June had been for Quinn.

Gone were the tense morning phone calls after a blowout fight. Gone were the sick-in-love nights where Quinn was hanging up early before really talking to either of them so he could spend time with June while the getting was good. Gone were the confused, “I don’t know what she wants from me,” talks that happened way too often for Luke's liking. 

Not only was Sarah more stable, Luke felt like Quinn was more stable with her. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Jack said, clinging to his pride. “You’re an athlete, Q. Do you really think she can keep up with the lifestyle?” 

“It’s not like she needs to go to the gym with me every day,” Quinn shot back. 

“The girls you’ve dated before have been…” 

“Listen, Jack. Yes, Sarah might be a little bigger than the girls I’ve dated before, but she’s more than all of them.” 

“I’ll say she’s more,” Jack snided. 

Luke stepped in, “don’t be such a dick.” 

“It’s true.”

“She’s better,” Quinn corrected, and his voice went hard. “She’s better than any of those girls. More driven and more supportive and more understanding and loving than anyone I’ve ever dated.” 

That stopped Jack in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. 

This. This was the thing he was most scared of. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack knew Quinn or Luke would eventually get married, and their unit would be changed forever. They wouldn’t be The Hughes Boys anymore. Not like they had been. They would be different. Sarah was coming in and stealing his brother from him. 

“And just for the record,” Quinn said, getting in Jack’s face with a fierceness Luke rarely saw directed at either of them when talking about something so serious, “I don’t think Sarah’s fat, and I don’t think you do either. You never called Madeline fat, and she’s bigger than Sarah.” 

Madeline was a plus-size model Jack had quietly dated and broken up with the year before. 

Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much of their breakup was caused by Jack’s need to be perceived a certain way. Madeline was stunningly beautiful, but there were comments swirling all the time about how much bigger she was than him, and how could he possibly want to date someone so large, despite the fact that she was incredibly successful and was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. Not to mention that she kept to a diet that would put all of them to shame. 

Caught, Jack snapped his mouth shut and glared. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” Quinn practically begged. “I should have, and I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you need to take it out on her.” 

Luke was struck at how much his oldest brother was trying to protect his girlfriend. Jack could say what he wanted about him, but when it came to Sarah, he was trying to put blame back where it belonged. 

Quinn sunk into the club chair closest to him, raking his hands into his hair. 

“Can you just TRY to get to know her?” he asked. “I think you’ll really like her if you get to know her.” 

Jack huffed a breath through his nose and nodded once. Once again, he was struck with a sudden sense of vertigo, like everything around him was shifting and changing, pulled just off kilter. 

He wasn’t blind, as much as he wanted to be. He knew Quinn, and the very fact he was directing the blame back on himself again and again told Jack all he needed to know about how he felt about Sarah. Even though he didn’t know her very well and resented the swift way she’d blown into Quinns life, Jack could see she would be around for a long time. 

A few days later, as they sat around the table to eat breakfast, Ellen met Quinn's eyes, a warm smile lighting her face. “She's good. I really like her.”

Quinn knew his mom liked Sarah from when she first met his parents several weeks before.

Still, hearing her say this after seeing her interact with the rest of the family meant more. Some of the lingering anxiety he felt blew away. Jack still didn't love her, but he was softening up. Quinn wasn't sure anyone would ever live up to Jack's ideal standard. Luke loved everyone and liked to talk to her about the ocean. Plus, it seemed like she’d get along great with Kylee. 

His dad nodded in agreement, “don't fuck it up.”

That spoke louder to Quinn than anything else he could have said. “I don't plan to.”

“Make sure you don't. She's good for you. Good for the family, too.”

“Too good for him,” Luke added quietly. 

“That goes without saying. Most women will be for all of you.”

Jack scoffed. 

“Is she coming to Hawaii?” his mom asked. 

“What?” Jack exclaimed. “She can't come to Hawaii! That's our trip.”

Ellen looked at her middle son patiently, waiting for his instinctive reaction to calm down so he could think clearly. 

“I asked her,” Quinn said, “but -”

Jack broke in, his hot head getting the best of him,“you talked about this without me?”  

“Relax Jack,” Luke said. 

“But she told me no,” Quinn finished. 

“She told you no? She told me all sorts of things we should do from when she lived there. I was really hoping she could show us around,” Ellen admitted.

“I know,” Quinn said. “She said she didn't want to tread on family time.”

“She's going to be a part of this family, isn't she?” Ellen asked. 

Jack glared at her, “mom, it hasn't even been six months.”

“Five months can tell you a lot, Jack. Can't you see how much your brother loves her? And how much she loves him?” 

Jack had to admit she was right. Quinn was more settled - no, that wasn't it. He had always been settled. He was more…at ease. A better, less worried version of himself. It was like Sarah had come in and soothed all this anxiety and all these fears that had been bubbling beneath Quinn’s skin. Only when they were gone did Jack notice. 

And Sarah was…sweet. She was considerate and kind and tried her best to engage him in conversation. 

“Sar told me she would only come if everyone said it was okay, especially you, Jack.” 

Jack looked at his brother, totally taken aback. Something in him shifted. “Really?” 

Quinn nodded. “She doesn't want to tread on our time. She knows we don't get much time together anyway.”

Jack had been feeling like she'd just come barging into their family, taking his brother away from him. He'd heard Quinn talk about her, but seeing it in real life - seeing how much time they spent together, how they had their own little language, and always seemed to be touching each other - he wasn't ready to lose his brother like that. 

But this shifted things a bit. It was one thing to visit the lake house or even tag along to a big family vacation, but the trip to Hawaii was more than that. It was going to be just them. Even Kylee wasn't coming. He was pretty sure it was because she had a family reunion of her own she couldn't skip out on, but the sentiment still counted. 

“I'll think about it,” Jack agreed begrudgingly. 

The morning after the Canucks were eliminated, Sarah wandered down to the kitchen wearing one of Quinn’s Michigan shirts and a pair of his boxers, still slightly twisted slightly from sleep. 

“Oh,” she greeted hesitantly upon seeing him at the bar, “morning, Jack.”

Watching her and Quinn interact last night had cracked something in him. Not only that Sarah was here to stay, but it awoke a kind of longing to have someone totally accept him. 

It was made even worse when he wandered up to the gaming room, figuring he could at least watch some TV if he couldn’t get any sleep, and heard noise from Quinn’s bedroom that let him know they were going at it. He didn’t ever want to think about his brother having sex, but the fact that Quinn had so many different levels of comfort available - all seemingly tailored to meet his exact needs - after a hard day woke a deep longing for that kind of intimacy in Jack. He hadn’t allowed himself to want it, at least since he and Madeline broke up.

He gave up on the gaming room and slept on the uncomfortable living room sofa. Now his shoulder was sore, and his hips hurt, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, hating that she felt like she needed to tip toe around him. He knew it was his own fault, but now he was in so deep that he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. The conversation about Hawaii, realizing she was thinking about their family as well as her relationship with Quinn along with what happened the night before, had him feeling ready to make peace with her. Except that would just be him admitting he was wrong, which seemed so much easier than it felt. 

She put a pod in the coffee maker, more at home in Quinns house than he was. That was a new feeling. Jack had searched for the coffee pods that morning, and when he couldn’t find one, settled for milk. Now, he wondered why Quinn kept them in the drawer beneath the coffee maker when it would have made more sense to keep them in the cupboard above. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked, leaning her butt on the counter while the machine gurgled. 

He shrugged, “Luke snored all night.” 

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“We haven’t had to share a room when he’s not exhausted from hockey in a long time.” 

She nodded, pulling creamer out of the fridge. 

He watched her walk back to her mug, noting the way her thighs trembled with each step. He loved that about Madeline. The softness of her. She was stunning, but not hard. Before he’d met her, he didn’t know those things could coexist. 

“How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” she said, “Quinn was so exhausted, I don’t think he turned over once.” 

“Isn’t he the worst?” Jack said with a loud, laughing groan. “Flailing all over the bed.”

Sarah snorted when he nearly fell backward off the stool in his demonstration of flailing limbs. “Has he always done that?” 

“Since we were kids. He must be a nightmare to share a bed with.” 

“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve experienced any flailing. He must be a little less writhe-y now, but if we’re not cuddling, he does usually toss and turn all night.” 

“Good,” he said, and then immediately felt stupid. What was she supposed to say to that now? 

“Where are your parents?” she asked instead, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the hot liquid. 

“They went to get breakfast or something,” he said with a vague gesture over his shoulder. “They invited me, but I went back to sleep.” 

“Have you eaten? I was about to cook some eggs.” 

“Is Quinn up?” he asked. 

“He was still conked out when I got up. I figured I’d let him sleep. No use in waking him when he’s finally getting some solid rest.” 

There it was again - that pinch of jealousy. She knew him in ways Jack didn’t, like her knowledge that cuddling kept Quinn still at night, and she obviously liked to care for him. 

It’s not like he didn’t want her in his brothers life. She obviously made Quinn happy, and all Jack really wanted was for him to be happy. 

It was a weird, night and day difference between Quinn now and Quinn at the beginning of the season. When they’d left Michigan in September, it wasn’t like Quinn had been depressed - he’d been excited to get back to hockey - but he’d spent so much of the off season wondering if he and June were actually a good match that when he left, it felt like he was leaving without having anything truly resolved. When they’d finally broken up in November, a huge sigh of relief  had swept through Quinn’s whole life. 

Looking back now, Jack should have known something was up when Quinn started calling them, relaxed and cheerful, quick with a smile and a joke in a way he hadn’t been since he and June had broken up. Now, he was happy and content, and Jack could practically see the love he had for Sarah glowing on his skin. 

After spending time with her, he understood how Quinn had fallen so hard, so fast. She was kind but willing to put in the work, genuine and honest, but funny and snarky.

Might as well just get it over with. 

“Listen, Sarah,” he began, looking down at his glass of milk, “I’m sorry.”

She continued to look at him over her mug. It struck him that she waited for him to finish without jumping in or jumping to conclusions. 

“You’re really good for Quinn,” he admitted.

Something in her heart fluttered.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick. With June it was pretty obvious they weren’t going to last so I never put much stock in her, but I…” he chewed briefly on this thumbnail, thinking, “but I can see how you guys are good together.” 

A smile reached her eyes. 

He blew out a deep breath. “It’s just…Quinn’s my brother, you know?” Shaking his head, he raked a hand into his hair, “I’m sorry, I'm not making any sense.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, her voice calm. He wondered if she ever raised it. “I’ve been through this, too, when my sister started dating someone seriously. It’s weird and hard when someone new comes into your family.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m taking Quinn away from you or something.” 

“You couldn’t,” he said, then realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I can see that now.” 

Smiling in a way he realized was totally genuine, she set her mug on the counter. “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot coming from you.”  

It was like she knew all he needed was time. There were no hard feelings, no grudges or fits. No glares from across the room. She just waited and gave him time, and wasn’t mad at how much he needed. 

And now that he’d admitted it, she let it lie, changing the subject as soon as it’d been put to rest. “So, do you want some eggs?” she asked, turning back to the fridge. 

It was a refreshing turn of events. 

“Sure,” he stood from the bar stool, “how can I help?” 

By the time Quinn wandered down the stairs, clumsy with sleep and rubbing his eyes, they had omelets going. 

Looking nervously between Jack and Sarah, side by side in the kitchen, he briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. One night, and it seemed all of Jack’s hesitations had been put to bed. 

“Morning,” he yawned.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smiling bright, “hey, how’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” he said through another yawn as he walked up to them. He slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and rested the other on Jacks shoulder, “you two made up?” 

“I don’t think we were fighting, really,” Sarah said, “but we came to an understanding.”

Jack smiled gratefully, and Quinn leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[n-i-m-u-e]

What if Rhaenyra had taken over the raising of her siblings

I'm going to write more detailed posts on each of these heds eventually (and possibly add more heds here)

Maybe I'm looking in the wrong area or missing something... But I'm surprised that there's almost no discussion of what would happen if Rhaenyra took over raising her younger siblings. I found literally ONE (1) fic about this and it`s shame! For example, if Alicent died giving birth to Daeron (yes, I'm willing to sacrifice her for that). And Rhaenyra, who shortly afterwards welcomed her first child and felt that incredible overwhelming rush of oxytocin love for Jace, couldn't stand looking at her dear friend's baby childrens (and to a lesser extent her younger siblings) who were left alone . It was obvious that Viserys was still Viserys and didn't really care for them. So Rhaenyra asked her father for permission to raise Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and the newborn Daeron alongside Jace and her future children. Sorry, but I'm just in love with this idea: Alicent's children receive the same amount of care, unconditional parental love and acceptance from their older sister as Rhaenyra's children (!!!)

Aegon grows quite calmly without greens pressure. He has plenty of attention but also a lot of freedom and, accordingly, doesn't try to drown out his anxiety about unwanted responsibility with alcohol and sex from a young age. But even when his adolescent interest in these things manifested itself, it is hard to imagine that his foster mother, represented by Rhaenyra, would have condemned or tabooed it. Most likely, she simply kept it under control and sent Laenor or even Harwin bc girl can dream to talk him about the birds and the bees

Helaena's prophecies will be heard. Rhaenyra spends quite a lot of time with her little sister. Because as much as she adores all her boys, it's the baby girl (long-cherished dream) who fascinates her the most way. Everyone around says that the child acts strangely for her age, but Rhaenyra doesn't see anything too disturbing in her behavior. Over time, she begins to pay more attention to what Helaena saying, and at some point she remembers Daenys the Dreamer

Aegon can make really funny and inoffensive jokes. One time at dinner, he decided to make a joke about Aemond's dragonless, and Rhaenyra looked at him with suuuuuch disappointment, that he never wanted to be the cause of her look 'like this` again

So yes, the boys never bullied Aemond because he didn't have a dragon. But Rhaenyra, who realised his need very well, supported the desire to get one. Perhaps at some point she told the family that she and Aemond would be away for a while and took him on Cyrax's back to Dragonstone, where they stayed for several weeks. But when they finally returned to the capital, Aemond was riding Vermitor.

Aegon and Helaena were not engaged and didn't get into an unhappy marriage later.

Daeron is definitely staying in King's Landing. Because there is no way Otto would have any leverage! But the main motive for Rhaenyra was the inadmissibility of the little boy being cut off from his home, and heritage. And most importantly, Daeron and Jace grew up practically like twins and could not bear to be separated even for a short time.

Aemond is this one, who is most outraged about the rumors about the ancestry of her older sister's children and takes it as a personal attack. Because… because he has very personal reasons!

At Laena's funeral, Helaena approaches her grieving cousins and hugs them one by one, and then says something to Rhaena something about ‘the morning will fix a lot of things’. No one understood at the time, but the orphaned girls were visibly comforted, and for the first time in her life, Helaena Targaryen had friends.

Aegon was going through a phase of severe pre-pubescent crash in Rhaenyra and for several months in a row he tried to challenge Laenor to a ‘death duel’ to ‘free his sister from the chains of marriage’. A few years later, when Laenor ‘died’, it was Aegon who took it the hardest of all the children.

Aemond has the better (perfect) Valyrian pronunciation and two eyes:)

to be continued...

my apologise for any mistakes, english is not my native language and I typed this in a rush at my office instead of the royalty report

[mortemtheraven]

“The Ghost”

Pairing: Xavier Thorne x Addams! Reader

Summary: Y/n Addams has been keeping secrets to herself lately, emotional ones. When she was asked by a werewolf to a date, a certain artistic outcast found himself burning in jealousy.

Warning(s): Angst, insecurity, jealousy, curses, mention of death (reader's pronouns is she/her)

"Well, isn't this place cheery?" You looked up at the sound of a slightly familiar voice. It belongs to a guy, the werewolf who you helped find the book he sought in the library yesterday. He has strawberry blond hair, slicked back and soft obsidian eyes.

You were writing in your journal about your usual deep dark thoughts, adding some doodles or sketches here and there to add more vivid gore alongside your choice of words. Other than that, you were hanging out at the back of the school, where the woods of Nevermore extends to a seemingly endless range.

You snapped the black book shut, startling the blonde guy. "Is there a valid reason for me not to leave you here and seek another solitary place?"

"My name's Mason, do you remember? The guy–"

"–who was finding the encyclopedia about Moon Phases, yes." You interrupted him.

Mason smiled in amusement. "Uh, good then. I just wanna ask you if. . . you're free this weekend? I wanted to return the favor of helping me yesterday by treating you out, maybe through a coffee date at Weathervane tomorrow?"

You went dead silent at his bold words, making him anxious whilst you stare at him with emotionless (e/c) eyes. The silence was deafening and he was just standing awkwardly in front of you, stuffing his fidgeting hands into his jean pockets.

After another minute of silence, you spoke. "Alright,"

Mason grinned brightly almost immediately, jumping on the soles of his boots. "Great! I'll see you there tomorrow. Is 9 AM, a good time for you?"

You merely nodded once before walking away and leaving him there alone.

While walking to your next class, you couldn't help but ponder about a certain artist in your mind. Things would be better if he was the one that asked you, not Mason. The werewolf is a nice guy, but you've been into Xavier since you and your twin sister Wednesday were ten years old. The first time you met him, he looked completely different. But his endearing personality and artistic skills made him your friend instead of someone you'd want to murder.

"Y/n! Where are you off to?" Speaking of the devil, Xavier jogged towards you as you passed by the quad.

"My next class." You didn't even stop to look at him, you kept a straight cold face and a quick pace.

"Something wrong?" You mentioned you weren't feeling murderous about him, well now you're taking it back. His constant obliviousness is irritating you to death. "Y/n?"

You suddenly stopped walking and faced him with an unreadable expression. "A boy just asked me out."

Xavier chuckled in disbelief. "Oh, I'm sorry for him."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Well I assumed you turned him down," When you kept silent, Xavier's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you said yes?"

You nodded stiffly. "Indeed, I did."

Xavier scoffed. "Why?"

"What do you mean ‘why’?"

"Because you're not that type of girl who would date anyone."

"What do you know about what I want?" You muttered quietly.

Xavier nodded in disbelief, his jaw clenching. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Mason,"

Xavier groaned, not him. "That stuck-up werewolf? Why?"

"He asked nicely despite being clearly intimidated by my mere presence."

"Y/n, believe me, Mason is a stuck-up jerk. He's probably up to no good."

"You're saying he asked me out with dark intentions? Hypothetically?"

Xavier rolled his eyes. "Yes, hypothetically speaking. But I'm almost a hundred percent sure that this date would end up badly in his hands."

"Who said he's in control?" You smirked coldly. "And if you know me that well, Xavier Thorpe, is that I'm into dark intentions. Whatever Mason's up to, I intend to find out."

You turned around and left him dumbstruck. Well, at least you have something to look forward to in this date. You're going to need a dress.

Enid squealed, making both you and Wednesday wince unpleasantly. The moment the word "dress" slipped out of your mouth, the colorful roomie of your twin sister was ecstatic.

"I have a lot of ideas! Since you and Wednesday basically have the same taste of color palette, we're gonna go badass goth on you!" Enid immediately went through her wardrobe, finding anything black she could get her hands on. You doubt it though, considering that Enid's taste of colors basically resembles a rainbow.

"I can hardly believe you're going to this date." Wednesday clicked her tongue in distaste while you sat beside her on her bed.

"I'd like to call it an experimental game, besides, I heard that Mason is up to no good. Who doesn't wanna investigate dark intentions?" Wednesday smirked at your similarities, both curious Addams sisters. Except for the facial descriptions since you two are fraternal twins.

"Found it!" Enid held up a mid-thigh length dress, with leather skirt and a fitting top. Then she pulled out a pair of black leggings, matching black leather jacket and black combat boots. Why she owns such clothes, you don't know, but at least you found yourself satisfied with the style.

Minutes later, you were looking at the mirror with your sister and Enid standing beside you. Last minute doubt washed over you, maybe you just stay here in Ophelia Hall and not go on this stupid date. But you look really well-prepared, with your (h/c) hair tied into a fishtail braid.

"You look purr-fect! Totally ready for your first ever date."

"I suppose I should express my gratitude for lending a hand, Enid. So thank you." You said, turning the face the blonde girl.

"Don't mention it. Just have fun!" You just nodded at her.

"If he turns out to be a disappointment, I'm always up for grave-digging." Wednesday said, the edge of your lips turned slightly upward and you hugged her before leaving their dorm.

You went straight to Weathervane and ordered a cappuccino for yourself, sitting on the booth at the corner of the cafe. Turns out Mason is running late.

Your phone suddenly vibrated, so you dug it out from your black purse. It was Ciara, your witch roommate.

"Any particular reason for calling me?" You greeted.

"Y/n! You won't believe what I saw!" You immediately recognized Ciara's gossiping tone.

"If it's about another affair of two students you witnessed again, I will haunt you in your sleep."

"Worse! It's Mason, I saw him with another werewolf chic. And guess what?"

You exhaled and rolled your eyes. "Does it involve eating each other's faces?"

"Yes!" Ciara squeaked.

"Hmm," You sipped on your coffee calmly, feeling a blizzard of rage form inside your chest. "That explains why I'm finishing my cappuccino alone. Thank you for informing me, Ciara."

The line ended as you hit the red button. Mason Lee, you're gonna regret wasting my time.

Xavier got bored scrolling through his phone in his room, so he decided to go to his shed where he usually paints and keeps his artworks. Up until now, he still couldn't believe Y/n went with that asshole. But why is he so infuriated? Why is he so bothered by the fact that she's going out with someone who's not him?

Passing by the quad, he suddenly stopped his tracks when he saw a familiar pestilent face. It was that ass Mason, making out with another girl that's definitely not Y/n. Xavier couldn't help it, the immediately bubbling anger drove him to lunge at Mason and hit his face multiple times.

Everyone present at the quad gasped in surprise, and Ajax along with some other gorgons hauled Xavier away from the badly bruised Mason.

"What the actual fuck, Thorpe?!" Mason yelled, wiping the blood from his bottom lip.

"Why the fuck are you eating another girl's face here when you should be with Y/n right now?!" Xavier attempted to lunge at him again.

"Chill out, man!" Ajax hissed, pulling Xavier's arms alongside his friends.

"Why do you care if I don't show up?" Mason asked, his tone cocky and challenging.

"Because Y/n doesn't deserve to be stood up by a worthless asshole like you!"

Mason laughed. "Why don't you just admit it, Thorpe? You're head over heels for her, but she can't even look at you that way."

"Say another word and I swear I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Oh yeah? She's just a weirdo, Thorpe, just like her twin. They're both freaks, even in this school for outcasts—" Mason's insults were interrupted by a bunch of squawking sounds.

Everyone looked as the painting of ravens from a wall in a hallway near the quad, peeled off and transformed into actual ravens. They immediately flew and swarmed Mason, nipping and clawing at him. Meanwhile, Xavier just stood nearby, his arms now completely free from Ajax.

"Xavier stop!" Ajax yelled, gripping Xavier's raised hand.

"Now what would my sister say?" With that familiar emotionless voice, Xavier snapped out of his raging thoughts and turned to see Wednesday standing with a look of faint amusement in her eyes. The ravens finally stopped tormenting Mason and went back to the wall, becoming only paintings again.

"Wednesday," Xavier said in shock whilst Mason kept groaning on the ground. Ajax and the others pulled him up, carrying him to the infirmary (probably).

"I must say, Thorpe, you got here first to punish that pompous pest before I could even finish digging a hole." Wednesday simply stated before turning her heels and walking away, leaving Xavier breathing heavily in shock for what he just did.

You found yourself in Xavier's shed, calmly scrolling through his artworks. When you accidentally spotted a sketch of your face, you resorted to look for other drawings of yourself. Surprisingly, you found a lot.

The door suddenly slammed open and it took three seconds before someone asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Just sulking in self-pity and plotting my next move," You stood up from sitting on a stool and walked towards him. You spotted a little scratch on his cheek and raised an eyebrow, finally observing his frantic state. "What happened? You look like you've seen death flash before your eyes."

Xavier sighed in frustration. "Nothing! Just get out of my shed."

You crossed your arms and watched him take out a clean canvas. "Not until you tell me."

Xavier looked up in exasperation. "Fine, I got into a fight."

"With whom?"

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Mason,"

"Why?" You asked, though you have already have your suspicions.

"Because," Xavier turned to face you with a face of anger. "He stood you up for some random girl!"

"And why does that concern you?" he couldn't believe what you're saying.

"Seriously? I was out there defending you—"

You cut him off. "I didn't ask for your help."

"You don't have to! That's what friends do, Y/n! But I suppose you never saw me as that, did you? You're always so persistent to be alone, you couldn't care less for people who actually wants you to be their friend."

You were silent for a bit before nodding and approaching a table full of his art materials. "You're right. And no, I never really saw you as a friend, Xavier."

You heard him scoff, then exhale as if he's so done. Done with you and everything about you.

"I could not. . . not when I want more than that petty title in your life." Xavier's head snapped up as he heard those words come out of your mouth.

"What. . ." Xavier ran a hand across his face in frustration and confusion. "Stop speaking in riddles, Y/n. What do you mean by that?"

You chuckled coldly. "After all these years, you still haven't figured it out. Back since we were ten years old in your godmother's funeral."

Xavier's chest started beating faster, his breath hitching at the suspense. It couldn't be.

"My whole life I've been the Ghost of the Addams Family, though not as literal as I would've preferred. I'm always so. . . not seen. My sister is exceptional at everything, my mother just as same, and I'm–" You sighed.

"I care too much than I should, care too much than I show. Xavier, I have a. . . certain fondness for you." It was the first time Xavier saw your pale (s/c) face blushing. He swore his heart would just rip itself from his chest by the way its beating erratically.

"So no, Xavier Thorpe, I don't exactly see you as a friend. "

Xavier heaved. "Shit, are you serious?"

You felt a lump in your throat. Maybe this was a bad idea. "If it makes you feel better, rejecting me—"

You were completely taken by surprise when you felt his slender hands cup your cheeks and his tender lips on yours. "—is not gonna happen," He murmured against your mouth, his warm breath mixing with yours.

"Ew, what are you doing?" You asked with curiosity in your eyes, pulling slightly away.

Xavier laughed, his eyes sparkling. "I'm kissing you. Haven't you kissed anyone before?"

"What do you think?" You raised your brow.

Xavier grinned widely. "Then I'm happy to be your first."

You tilted your chin up, eyes still cold and proud. "Do it again."

Xavier just shook his head with a chuckle and pecked your maroon lips multiple times.

"By the way," You said, pulling away. "I've seen your paintings of me, never really wanted to pry into your things but curiosity got the best of me."

Xavier turned red, coughing awkwardly. "Oh, um, yeah. . . I like you, Y/n. Way too much that I couldn't get you out of my head so. . . you became my muse."

"Hmm, creepy," You said nonchalantly. "I like that."

"Look, I can stop if you wa—" Xavier's words were cut short by your lips.

"If I find out you're playing with me, Thorpe," You said, breathing heavily with a threat laced on your voice. "I will personally make sure you die an agonizing death."

Xavier grinned and bit your bottom lip. "Wouldn't even dream of it, Addams."

[stoneagedevil]

“I’m Not in Love” | Human!Alastor x F!Reader

TW/CW: Suicide, guns, hunting, allusions to murder, initial unrequited love, grief, death, hysteria fueled by grief.

PART 2: “Reunion”

-♥️-

He remembered the day he met you. It was a Monday, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The summer sun’s rays beat down on the back of his already tan neck, and he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of his mama’s scolding while she gently applied aloe once she saw how scorched he was.

Mama. She sent him to pick up a few things from the store for supper tomorrow. He couldn’t do it the day before, as there was church and the stores weren’t open.

Maybe if he went Saturday, or even Tuesday, it would’ve saved him the trouble of meeting you. You bumped into him, change flying from both your hands as you both scrambled to pick up your funds.

“You should watch where you’re walking.” He warned. At this rate, who knows if he even has enough to get what his mother asked?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. Here, this quarter can’t be mine, I’m over some change.” You shyly held out your hand, the quarter at the center of your palm.

“How do I know you haven’t stolen any other change?” He swiped the quarter from your hand, not trusting of you at all. Your eyebrows furrowed. Did you really seem like that much of a street rat?

“Why would I go and do a thing like that?” You tilted your head at him, and the question stilled him. Maybe he was being too harsh with you. No one intentionally bumps into another person.

Unless you planned this entire ordeal and wanted to steal his change with your little thieving hands.

He was back to not trusting you again.

“Just count your money. Tell me if it’s right.” You said, desperate to make this stranger not think so ill of you.

He didn’t like that you were telling him what to do, but he counted anyway. “I’m a nickel short.” He frowned.

You sighed, looking at the change you had left. You had a nickel, but it was part of the original amount you had. What little you scrounged up. “Here,” you held out your nickel, “it was my fault that I bumped into you. Take it.”

The hand that previously swiped the quarter from you hesitated at the chance to take this coin. He was too harsh with you.

“Go on, take it. It’s alright.” You encouraged. You put on your best smile to show how pure your intentions were.

His shoulders relaxed, and a soft smile appeared on his face, as if yours was contagious. “Thank you…”

“Y/N.” You finished.

“Y/N. I’m Alastor. I apologize for my behavior, and I appreciate your honesty.” He said, slightly looking off to the side.

That was the start of this horrible situation.

—

I'm not in love

So don't forget it

“I don’t love her mama!” He pouted at his mother. Normally he wouldn’t dream of going against his mother’s words, but this was different. He was growing up. He was a man with aspirations. He didn’t have time for love. You were just his friend to pass the time. A phase.

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

Even when you patiently awaited his calls on the telephone, he didn’t want you to get any ideas.

And just because

I call you up

Don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made

You both grew up. Him into a strapping young gentleman his mama worked so hard to raise, and you, a vision. A beauty filled with a fiery determination that no one could put out. Except for him.

I'm not in love, no no, it's because

He wasn’t in love. Why? Well, because! He…he just wasn’t! It didn’t matter how much time you spent together. He just wanted to see you. He just wanted your company.

I’d like to see you

But then again

That doesn't mean you mean that much to me

Just friends. A mantra he’d been repeating to any other person in his life who brought you up. He wished everyone would stop this nonsense. When you were away, he simply missed talking to someone about anything, surely.

You could be replaced. Surely.

So if I call you

Don't make a fuss

And yet you always would make a fuss. Always fawning over him, asking how his day was, how work at the radio station was, what he ate that day. Silly inconsequential questions.

Don't tell your friends about the two of us

I'm not in love, no no, it's because

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a party my friend is hosting. She said I could bring a date.” You twisted the telephone cord around your finger, nervously hoping he’d agree to it.

“A date? Don’t tell me you’ve been telling your friends I’ve been courting you. You know it would never come to that.” He said, defensively. His cheeks were warm and his stomach felt funny at the notion of accompanying you as your date for the night.

Your throat felt tight. Maybe throughout all of these years, it truly was hopeless. A blink of an eye, and a decade went by since the day you both met, and he still hasn’t asked to court you. Maybe you were reading the glances he gave you wrong. Maybe his face wasn’t warming at you. Maybe he never thought your jokes were funny, and he laughed out of pity. “N-No, no. I haven’t told them anything like that.” You paused, sniffling. “It was only an invitation. I could ask another, if you aren’t interested.”

“Please do.” Space. Perhaps what he needed was time away from you. You were making him feel things that he didn’t like. That he didn’t understand. Maybe he hated you, and he just didn’t know it.

Be quiet, big boys don't cry

Big boys don't cry

Big boys don't cry

Big boys don't cry

So if you meant nothing, why was he tearing up at the thought of you going to a party with another man?

Big boys don't cry

Big boys don't cry

Big boys don't cry

His father told him men don’t cry. His mother told him big boys don’t cry, but it was okay because he’d always be her little boy. So here his eyes and heart were, stuck in the middle of two parents that weren’t even here. Not even his mother to comfort him.

I keep your picture

Upon the wall

He looked at the portrait of you and him that you gifted on the anniversary of your friendship. The five year anniversary. You’d carved the wooden frame yourself, imagery of activities you’d both done together sculpted out of the walnut. Bullets and antlers from the times you went hunting. Champagne flutes and feathers from your times dancing in the clubs. A microphone and a pencil from the times you’d sit in during a broadcast of his, drawing him until he was finished.

And within the frame, you and him. You wearing the biggest smile he’d ever seen you make. Him with the softest one he’d never seen himself make.

It hides a nasty stain that's lying there

So don't you ask me

To give it back

It wasn’t anything special. He didn’t hang it up right away in his room because he was excited to see it everyday. There was just a blemish on the wall. Nothing more.

I know you know it doesn't mean that much to me

You knew. One of the only friends you’d had didn’t care about you as much as you thought. Even if you tried to convey how much you cared about him. But you could lead a horse to water, that didn’t mean you could make him drink.

I'm not in love, no no, it's because

He wasn’t in love. It was what was under the frame that made his heart race. Only the bad memories under the portrait that formed a stain. Not your smiling face.

Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me

Ooh, you'll wait a long time

“Alastor. I just want to know. How much longer will you drag my heart around?” Your tears were camouflaged in the rain, but nothing could hide the sadness in your eyes.

He was planning on walking you home, but you stopped in the middle of the route to interrogate him on his behavior. His heart tightened as he felt backed into a corner.

“You’ll be waiting a long time for me. You might even be dead before I can catch up.” Why did he say that? Whose words were coming out of his mouth? It sounded wrong. It tasted horrible. It felt even worse.

Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me

Ooh, you'll wait a long time

It was him that needed to do the catching up. But the most important things typically come too little too late, didn’t they? You walked home alone that night. You expressed your wishes never to see him again, and that maybe he’d get his wish.

I'm not in love

So don't forget it

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

And just because I call you up

You didn’t answer his calls, and the wetness in his eyes never ceased. He slammed the telephone onto its cradle harshly, pulling at his chocolate locks. Denial. Caught in the middle of two organs again, this time his heart and brain. One that yearned for the love that was within arms reach, and one that couldn’t comprehend such a thing that was so freely given to him of all people.

Don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made, ooh

He treated you so terribly. How could he do something so terrible to someone so sweet?

“You’re no better than the cretins you kill, Alastor. Mama would be ashamed of you.” He told himself, voice cracking.

Ever since his mother passed, it was like he shut off any emotional facet in his life to protect himself.

I'm not in love

Liar. He just picked up an apology bouquet.

I'm not in love

Liar. He planned on confessing and apologizing. Feet taking him straight to the home he never got to drop you off at that night.

He was a liar. A liar knocking on the door of the home in which you resided in with your aunt ever since your parents passed away.

The door opened, revealing the face of your aunt, button nose red and cheeks showing tear stains; something he’d come to grow familiar with in your absence.

“Alastor?” She questioned. Her voice was wet with grief.

“I’m here to apologize to Y/N.” He said, uncertainly. A deep sadness wafted from the house, squeezing between his ribs and slithering around his heart. Something wasn’t right.

A choked sob rang out into the space between him and your aunt. “She’s- she passed away. I’m so sorry.” Her hand cupped her mouth, as if willing the words back into her face. Maybe if she held out a little longer in voicing your demise, you’d have come back.

It was like the ground was ripped out from under his feet. The floating feeling he had at the utterance of your name was replaced with mortal dread. His head had a mind of it own, shaking back and forth unconsciously. No.

“What?” What else could he say? Did he even say anything? Or did he imagine the word he just said?

—

It’s not like you’d be missed. Your parents were gone. Your aunt had another mouth to feed that she couldn’t afford. It was a decision you should’ve made a long time ago. Alastor didn’t want you, and it truly wasn’t a surprise. Deep down you were a terrible person.

You’d hurt people who tried to woo Alastor. No sane person does that.

You loaded the hunting rifle Alastor had gifted you. Maybe it was a subtle (but rather expensive) way of him telling you to follow through on the plan you made all of those years ago.

You looked in the mirror, looking deeply at yourself. At the person in front of you. “Well Y/N, this’ll be the easiest game you’ll ever shoot. She’s not running anywhere.” You pressed your forehead on the barrel, opting to not taste gunpowder for the split second before the afterlife - if there truly was one.

A deep breath.

One.

Two.

You never got to three. You didn’t like landing on three because that’s when everyone expected something to happen. You preferred to rip the bandaid off. To pull the trigger on pulling the trigger, so to speak.

Suddenly, everything was cold, and then so overwhelmingly warm.

—

The apology/confession flowers were turned into apology/confession/memorial flowers as soon as he stepped foot into the cemetery he’d gotten used to. It was the same one his mother was buried in.

Now the weight of the location was that much heavier.

Your plot was just filled in. Just a few flowers placed onto it. He set his bouquet down, his bouquet being the biggest. He wished he realized how much he cared about you, as he obviously cared about you the most. Everyone saw it but him.

His throat closed around a sob. He obviously cared about you, and how absolutely awful. The one to care about you the most hardly showed it at all. What did that mean for the other people in your life?

What a terrible human being he was. It was subhuman the way he acted. He should’ve let those men that tried to court you live their lives. You could’ve been engaged by now. Happy without him instead of dead because of him.

“Y/N. I’m a selfish liar. You know how you always said my mama knew best? Well you’re right. You were always right, and she was right too. I’m so unbelievably in love with you it scares me. I’m someone different with you.” He lowered himself to the Earth, cheek and chest pressing into the fresh dirt as if to hug you for one last time. He wished to sink into the dirt and lay with you. “I’m all alone. And now I know how you felt. I wish I could bring you back so you wouldn’t have to be. I- you were my greatest adventure. I truly didn’t deserve you. I still don’t. I- I’ll spend the rest of my life and afterlife indebted to you for the unconditional love you gave me. I’ll give it to you in return. I love you.” He curled into a fetal position, knees planted on your plot. Sobs racked his body, and his lungs gasped for air to combat the onslaught of grief that struck him. “You hear me?! I love you!” His fists pounded on the ground, hands joining together to form a cup that housed the dirt that kept you from him. He writhed in a pain that was purely internal, dirt-filled hands coming up to his hair and rubbing the earth into his scalp as his fingers pulled at his strands of hair harshly.

He couldn’t see it through the tears. He couldn’t see it through his tangled fringe that fell over his eyes. He couldn’t see it through the dirt that began to cake his face, turning into mud with the mixture of dirt and tears. He didn’t even feel it.

A chain, white in color and glowing clamped around his throat from beyond the grave.

A deal that would last for forever had been made, one from the land of the living that bridged to the underworld. The very first of its kind; fueled by the most intense love ever felt by two beings since Lilith and Lucifer.

He wasn’t just in love. It was far greater than that.

-♥️-

Thinking about adding a part 2 to this. I hope you enjoyed.

[itsnathateasy]

aot characters reacting to you asking them “what are we?” (part 2)

warnings: just fluff word count: 1,4k author's note: i’m sorry if your fave isn’t here, even tho it’s a part 2! i focused on the characters i connect with the most, also, why did i go so overboard with zeke lol

read part 1

⭑🌻 ⭒🤎 . ✦ 🙈 . ⁺ . ✦ 🙈 . ⁺ . ✦ 🙈 . 🤎⭒🌻 ⭑

reiner simply goes “what do YOU think we are hehe…” you could tell he was being more awkward than before you popped the question, because he kept rubbing his palm on the nape of his neck, as he was getting more and more red by the second. “i guess i need some reassurance reiner. we’ve been dating for a while and i’d like to know what lies ahead, are we an item or are we casual?” “damn y/n, do you really wanna be in a relationship with me?” at this he plopped himself down on the chair, burying his head in his hands. “ugh… you do remember i’m in love with you, right? and you wanted to talk about moving in together soon, but we need to check another box first” you didn’t think you were being too mean, but reiner was silently sobbing?? (poor baby!) “hey… reiner… you don’t have to respond right now, i’m sorry to upset you… but we need to talk about this soon, yeah?”, you ran your hand from his shoulder, down to his arm. “nothing to talk about y/n… i’m in love with you too, i just… i can’t believe you see a future with me, you know?” you moved closer to him and he parted his knees a bit to rest your head between his legs as he kissed you on the forehead. “we’re an item, y/n, and we’re more than good… we’re more than good”

bertholdt didn’t understand the question at first, and asked you to “complete your sentence, y/n! what are we doing? what are we up to? what do you mean?” but the look on your face was enough for him to register the information and simply go “oh”. he sighed as he moved closer to you, clapping his hands together once (and quite awkwardly) before he spoke. “i know that i’m having the time of my life with you, everyday spent with you is wonderful and i love you so much. if the same applies to you, i’m confident we can make this official. what do you say, y/n?” your response being burying yourself in his arms and squeezing him as tightly as possible.

annie would probably give you a good glare when you ask her this, examining you with her gaze, not sure if you’re playing tricks on her or if you’re being serious. eventually, she’d drop the “playing it tough” facade and talk things through with you. “we probably should’ve talked about this way sooner, don’t you think y/n?” she questioned as she leaned her head closer to yours, your heads accidentally banging on each other, resulting in the both of you bursting into laughter. “well, you know what they say annie, friends who headbang together, stay together, i’m sure we can apply it to lovers too”, she smiled at you contently, one of the few times when her smile reached her eyes, her pupils dilating as she stared into your orbs. “you know what y/n, i’m certain we can apply it to lovers” she said as she sloppily banged her head on yours again.

historia gets so nervous she ends up crying, you have to console her back to calmness. it’s not that she’s bothered by your question, but it was too soon for her. “just let me explain myself, y/n”. she told you all about why she reacted like this, the main reason being she’s lost all of her family and many friends and is afraid to properly commit to anyone for fear that they might be gone as well. “are you willing to stick by my side y/n?” she asked you with pleading eyes. when you reassured her that you have all the time in the world, she finally relaxed into your embrace.

pieck was working on your car, half of her body presently concealed by the machine. however, she responds at once, not a tiny bit phased by your inquiry. “we’ve been dating for a while now, i think it’s high time we made our relationship official. plus, with zeke and porco being in town these days, it’s easier to plan our formal dinner, don’t you think? of course you should contact your friends too and make sure at least some of them are able to attend on such short notice. how about two sundays from now? we should get some decor too, right? and a banner that says “just married”, as a joke of course. we can discuss marriage after the party. y/n, are you still there?” she questioned when you didn’t respond. “just wasn’t expecting you to be so eager about this, but yes, it all sounds amazing pieck! can you come up from the car now so i can kiss you?”

you caught zeke in the midst of him completing some paper work, he was so focused, he paid you little mind. “what was that, y/n?” he asked. you didn’t respond, your arms folded on your chest. you weren’t dropping this AGAIN. you’d tried to discuss this matter with him before, but he’d asked you to put it off. this time, you were determined to get a proper answer, even if it meant waiting for him to acknowledge your question. “are you for real now?” he looked up at you, pen falling on the side by the way he was relaxing his grip on it. “i’m for real zeke. i can’t go on like this. i see so many of our colleagues flirting with you at the office and you do nothing. how am i supposed to feel? if i’m your sneaky link, i’d much rather know about it”. zeke pushed his papers aside and patted on his legs, motioning you to sit in his lap. “i never realised this was so important to you, i’m sorry. in my head, we’re very much together, but i see why you want to let the world know. also, i’m not addressing my colleagues’ flirting, as i never addressed yours…” at this point he pinched your cheek playfully “because we work together and i’m trying to keep things drama free, so i’m being friendly and declining their offers. but it’s just you and me babe, don’t worry your mind too much” he put his fingers on your chin, softly pulling your face upwards so that you’d face him. “do you want us to drive together at work tomorrow and walk in holding hands? hm? would that be okay with you?” “yes, zeke, but can we also do that everyday after tomorrow too?” “if that’s what you wish for, love” he said as he kissed you softly.

petra blushes all over and avoids your gaze. as the seconds pass and you get no response out of her, you realise she’s spiralling, you have to pull her out of her thoughts, which you do with a gentle squeeze on the arm. “no need to worry about it, petra. i’d just feel so much safer about us if i knew where we’re standing”. she put her own hand on yours, touching it softly before moving it away from her arm, so that she could hold your it in both of hers. “it’s understandable, y/n, this… conversation’s been long due… but we’re in a relationship, i think. i mean, we’re officially in a relationship. this is what you want too, right?” “yes, petra, of course it’s what i want!” you hugged her and kissed her all over her face, and, as if it was possible, she kept blushing more with each peck. “do you think we should tell captain levi, y/n?” you held back a laughter, before admitting that it was captain levi, who, in fact, encouraged you to talk things through with petra. “so… you mean that captain has known this entire time?” poor baby almost fainted out of embarassment.

yelena isn’t amused, and i mean, not at all amused, she thinks you’re pulling her leg. “seriously, y/n, you ask me this after you’ve met my family, been sneaking away with me during your patrols for months on end and basically everyone knowing we’re together??” she was glaring at you, her gaze filled with anger. “shit yelena, just making sure… we’ve never really discussed our relationship status before, that’s all… please don’t look at me like you’re about to kill me”. at this statement, yelena calmed down a bit, she hadn’t realised you were unsure of where you two stood. “i can forgive you neglecting your duties, but not you not thinking you’re mine”